


The Sweet Girl at Number Seven

by lxtmelive



Series: Founder’s Keepers [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marauders - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Founders - Freeform, Triwizard Tournament, goblet of fire - Freeform, harry potter x oc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28216107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lxtmelive/pseuds/lxtmelive
Summary: This story follows a young Hufflepuff named Amelia Blackwood who finds herself paired up with Salazar Slytherin as the prospect of wizarding war becomes more and more likely. With no special abilities (like the ones the other girls have) she feels the need to prove that she is worthy of her new position and will go to the ends of the earth to protect her childhood best friend, Harry Potter, as he faces off against dragons, mermaids, and a maze that hold more than just confusing twists and turns.
Series: Founder’s Keepers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066976
Kudos: 1





	1. The Wizard’s Charade

Amelia Blackwood could not have been more ready for the new school year to begin. Her small, ordinary life at Privet Drive was nothing compared to the wonders she had seen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And even though she loved her parents, they were very difficult to be around all the time. 

Her mother was a tall, skinny woman named Camilla. She had a bit gossiping problem. The only problem was that she was not well liked amongst the other women who lived on Privet Drive as she therefore gossiped with either Amelia (when she wasn’t at Hogwarts) or her husband. Her father, on the other hand, was very tall and broad shouldered man named Henry. Amelia knew his job had something to do with the government but beyond that she dared not ask for fear of being trapped in a terribly boring conversation.

Amelia looked very little like either of her brunette parents. She had wild, curly blonde hair, a very round face, and an infectious smile that always reached her bright eyes. Of course, she was also plagued with the regular teenage symptoms. Spots were dotted around her tan face and the bridge of her nose always seemed red from where her horn-rimmed glasses sat.

She had no siblings, no cousins, no aunts or uncles. It was just her, her Mum, and her Dad. 

Whenever she could, Amelia would escape her house of normal and talk with who she believed to be the only other magical person for miles. Young Harry Potter lived at number 4, just across the street. He was tall, black haired boy with knobbly knees. He was one of the only reason that she liked the holidays. At school, they didn't talk an awful lot due to him being in Gryffindor. People in different houses rarely developed tight friendships. 

Harry, although quite oblivious to most things, could be quite sneaky at times. When he was ten he had tricked his aunt and uncle - the Dursleys - into thinking that he hated hanging out with Amelia. Since then, she was regularly encouraged to come over to their house to annoy their nephew.

On the 31st of July, Harry's 14th birthday, Amelia made her way over to number 4 Privet Drive. She hid her present in her bag and knocked on the door. Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle, opened it.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Dursley," she said, cheerfully. "How are you today?"

Before Mr. Dursley had time to reply, Amelia spotted Harry behind his uncle large stomach. Harry smiled momentarily before putting on an annoyed face. 

"Ugh, it's you," he groaned. "Uncle Vernon, please don't make me spend the afternoon with her. Not today, it's my birthday." Mr Dursley seemed to stand up straighter and take up even more of the doorway. 

"I will not have you being rude to your neighbour," he grumbled, though Amelia could see a twinkle in his eyes. "Now, you will spend as much time with Amelia as she says, without complaining." Harry hung his head and nodded. Mr Dursley stepped aside, allowing Amelia to enter his home. She and Harry began their way up the stairs when Mr Dursley ushered her back for a moment. 

"You didn't get him a present, did you?" He asked, his voice low. Amelia put on a confused face. 

"Of course I did," she said, brightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry's eyes widen. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a half empty packet of tissues. He nodded. 

"Now don't go being too generous with the boy," he said. He would have probably preferred Amelia to have given his nephew a punch in the face for his birthday but it looked like a used packet of tissues was going to do instead. 

She excused herself, quickly said hello to Harry's Aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley, and went upstairs to Harry's room. He was almost laughing at their little charade. 

"Shh," she told him. "If they hear you laughing, I'll be out of here as quickly as a defence against the dark arts teacher." 

"It's fine, Aunt Petunia's hoovering, Dudley'll be glued to the TV, and Uncle Vernon always complains about the news at this time."

"No offence, but your relatives are the most boring people I've ever met," Amelia confessed. "You're more than welcome to spend your birthday at my house."

"They'd never let me go to someone else's house for dinner unless it was Mrs Figgs," he explained. "They like it when I'm not having fun." 

"But that was before you found out you were a-"

Before she could finish the sentence, Harry had clamped his hand over her mouth to quiet her. She pushed him away, wide eyed. "I though you said they couldn't hear us," she said in a hurried whisper. She had been about to say the word Wizard.

"They have an ear for those kind of words," he explained, quickly. She nodded, sitting down on Harry's bed. She pulled her bag off her shoulder and began to dig around for something. 

"What are you looking for?" Harry asked, sitting down next to her. She smiled at him, pausing her search for a moment. 

"You don't think I actually got you tissues for your birthday, do you?" Harry smiled with her as she pulled out a plastic bag that was filled to the top with both magical and muggle sweets. He pulled out a box of Bertie Bots Every Flavoured Beans and ripped it open. 

"Thank you," he told her, handing her the box. She warily took a grey one and popped it in her mouth. "Sorry that I couldn't get you anything for your birthday, I'll buy you something at our first Hogsmeade visit." She smiled but her face was quickly contorted into one of disgust. 

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, concern written across his face. She pointed to her mouth in which she was still chewing the Bertie Bots bean. "Ah, What flavour is it." 

"Not sure," her face screwed up, "I think it's broken computer." They both laughed. 

"They really mean every flavour," Harry said as she finally swallowed and shuddered. 

-

It had been a few days since Harry's birthday. Amelia never really got much news from her magical friends, so she felt rather bored as she reread some of her text books or watched some television. She missed the people she spent the most time with at Hogwarts. Two of her best friends, Hannah Abbot and Ernie Macmillan, were spending a part of the summer at each other's houses and Amelia couldn't help but feel jealous. Most of her friends, apart from Justin, had magical parents - or at least parents that weren't as strict as hers. Since she was away for most of the year, Camilla and Henry Blackwood wanted to spend every single minute with their daughter. She felt trapped in her own home, she needed to go back to her castle. 

Just as she was reminiscing about her real home, something that reminded every muggleborn of magic landed outside her window sill. It was a snowy owl that Amelia knew was called Hedwig. She belonged to Harry and she was holding a letter in her talons. Quickly, Amelia jumped off her bed and pulled the window open, allowing Hegwig to step inside and hold out the letter. 

"Thank you," Amelia said as she took it. She unfolded the paper and read.

“I've just gotten an invite from Ron to go to the quidditch World Cup. Do you think your parents would let you go?”

Beaming, she looked back over to Harry who was still looking out of his window. She held up her index finger, signalling she would be back in a minute. She ran downstairs, giddy with the thought of actually going to the World Cup. Her mother and father were in the kitchen, probably talking about the latest bill they had received.

"Mum, dad," she said, drawing their attention to her. "My friends are going to a big sports thing, would I be able to go?"

"Is a magic sport?" Her father asked, peering over the top of his glasses. 

"Um, yes," she said. "It's called Quidditch-" Her father tried to stifle a laugh at the name. "What?" She asked.

"Nothing," he said, setting down his newspaper on the kitchen table. "You were saying?"

"Oh, well, it's the World Cup final and everyone's going and I would really like to as well." Her mother and father looked at each other. Since they didn't get to see their daughter during the school year, they hardly let her out of their sight during holidays. 

"Well," her mother began, "Is that boy next door going?" The woman seemed oddly excited at the prospect.

"Yes," Amelia assured her. She nodded to herself. "Harry's the one who invited me. I would be going with the Weasleys - that ginger family that you met last year at the platform." Her mother looked at the ceiling, trying to picture plump little Mrs Weasley and her tall balding husband. She nodded to herself. 

"Ah yes, I liked that woman," her mother said, mostly to herself. "A few too many kids though." It was true that the Weasleys were a big family - two adults and seven kids - but to Amelia, who had never had any siblings, she thought it looked like good fun. She would absolutely love a big and noisy household, similar to that of her dormitory and common room. 

"So," Amelia said, cautiously, "can I go?"

Her mother and father looked at each other for a long moment, as if they were having their own telepathic conversation. Finally, they both seemed to come to a conclusion. "Very well," they said in unison. As she burst out into a smile, Amelia thanked them and ran back upstairs to her bedroom. Peering out the window, she saw Harry still sitting there, awaiting her return. She waved at him and held up her two thumbs, signalling that she was allowed to go. Harry grinned at her from across the street. 

She tried to imagine what the World Cup would be like. She imagined thousand of wizards and witches surrounding a Quidditch pitch, ten times the size of the one at Hogwarts. She had never been to a proper Quidditch match before, only the ones at the school. She was a long time admirer of the sport and hoped to one day play as Keeper on the Hufflepuff team on her old comet 260. She could hardly believe that a young Hufflepuff such as herself was going to see the some of the greatest players in the world compete.

-

The next day was Monday, the day that the Weasleys were going to pick Amelia and Harry up and take them back into the wizarding world. They were supposed to arrive at five o'clock so Amelia spent the whole morning packing her clothes and the other things she would need. 

After the World Cup, Harry would be staying at the Burrow for the remainder of the holiday but Amelia was to return to Privet Drive. The Weasleys has offered for her to stay as well but that was a step too far for her protective parents. 

After she finished packing, she began trying to devise a plan. She had to figure out a way to get to the Dursley's house and leave with the Weasleys and Harry without them noticing. If they saw her, then they'd know that she was a witch and she would never be allowed back in the house. So far, she hadn't come up with a single idea. She figured they would be coming by floo powder as it was common knowledge that Harry and Ron Weasley had flown their car to Hogwarts during their second year. They ended up crashing it into the wimping willow and it drove off into the forbidden forest. 

So, how was she going to get into the Dursley's fireplace without them noticing? Climb through the window? No they would surely be drawing all of the curtains, lest someone see a group of wizards in their living room. She would make far too much noise. 

But then she began wonder if she needed to hide anymore. At the end of last year, it had been revealed that the escaped murderer, Sirius Black, was Harry's godfather. Perhaps Harry could use that to his advantage and scare his relatives into letting him do what he wants. He could come over to her house more often and he wouldn't have to pretend to hate her. 

She decided something significant in that moment. At five o'clock, she would knock on the door of number four, Privet Drive and announce that she was joining Harry and the Weasleys. She knew that once she returned after the World Cup, she would be in for a very different summer.

-

Although Amelia showed the qualities of a true Hufflepuff - loyal, hardworking, patient - she was unfortunately very forgetful and lacked the ability to find things. She glanced at her clock that evening and realised it was already quarter past five. She was meant to be meeting the Weasleys fifteen minutes ago. With the realisation that she was late, she leapt to her feet, grabbed her trunk and ran downstairs to say goodbye to her parents. 

It took a few minutes before her mother stopped fussing over her clothes and hair. They were both suffocating her with goodbyes and hugs. 

"I've- Mum, I've got to go- yes, I love you too- dad, I'm already late-"

She finally got out of the house, closing the door behind her and sighing. As she saw number four across the street, the courage that she had spent the afternoon building up began to fade. She closed her eyes and told herself that she was going to confess her magic. She took a deep breath and started across the street, towards the number four, private drive.

She was right in predicting that all the curtains would be drawn. If not for the noise from within, the house could've been completely empty and no one would know. Inside the house, she heard a loud bang! Similar to that of an explosion. Hesitantly, she knocked on the door. 

To her surprise, neither Vernon or Petunia answered the door. Before her stood two identical, red headed boys. Fred and George Weasley were grinning at her, holding Harry's trunk. 

"Hi, Amelia," they said in unison. Fred looked behind him towards the living room. "Dad! Amelia's here!"

"What?!" Came the voice of Vernon Dursley. Amelia winced at his tone. He was clearly already very angry to have wizards in his house and the fact that she would be joining them was not going to improve his mood. She walked alongside Fred and George as she entered the living room. 

Inside, she could see that their electric fire place had been blown off the wall. Rubble and soot covered the once-clean living room. Harry stood awkwardly next to Ron and Mr Weasley. Vernon's face was a deep purple, whereas Petunia's was a pale white. Harry's cousin, Dudley, looked as if he might burst into tears. 

There a short moment where Amelia felt bad for the Dursley's but then she remembered that they had abused a child for the past thirteen years and that they deserved far worse than a ruined living room. A living room can be fixed using magic, the mind of a child cannot. 

"Hello, Mr Weasley," said Amelia, politely. 

"Amelia," he said, smiling back at her. Vernon's foot cam slamming down on the floor.

"What is this?" He demanded. Mr Weasley seemed rather taken aback. 

"Well, Amelia is joining us at the World Cup, I hope you don't mind her using the fireplace," he said, carefully, as if he was worried he had offend Vernon. 

"Joining you?!" He bellowed. "What rubbish!" Amelia stepped forward. 

"No, I'm afraid he's quite right, Mr Dursley," she said. "I'm attending the Quidditch World Cup and, once I return, I'll shall be getting ready to return to Hogwarts and continue my magical education." Harry looks almost as bewildered as his uncle. Though his expression lacked the rage that Vernon's did. 

"Right," said Mr Weasley, awkwardly, clapping his hands together. "Ready to go?" Everyone nodded quickly. "You first, Fred." As Fred stepped forward, spilling sweets all over the floor, the Dursleys seemed at a complete loss of words. Fred quickly stuffed the sweet back in his pocket and stepped into the flames. 

"The Burrow," he said, clearly. He disappeared as he threw down the floo powder. George followed after him with Harry's trunk, his eyes lingering on a toffee that Fred had failed to pick up. He too vanished in the flames. 

"Now, Ron," said Mr Weasley. "You take Amelia's trunk with you." Ron nodded, smiling at Amelia as she helped him get the trunk with him into the fireplace. 

"The Burrow." 

It was Amelia's turn. She stepped into the flames and, with a hesitant wave to the Dursley's, she said the name of her destination and disappeared into the green fire.

Stepping into the Burrow was like stepping onto another planet. The contrast between the Dursley's clean, perfect house, and the Weasleys warm, yet hectic, home was almost comical. It felt so much more welcoming and real. Everything the Dursley's did was to improve their image to the other residents of Privet Drive, whereas the Burrow was a home for a real family. 

Ron handed her back her trunk but Amelia was distracted by Fred and George. They were whispering to each other, occasionally bursting into laughter. The two of them, along with Ron, went to sit at the small table in the kitchen with two red haired people Amelia didn't know. Just as she was about to what was so funny, Harry stepped out of the fireplace with the broadest grin Amelia had ever seen him wear. 

"Did he eat it?" Fred asked as soon as he saw Harry, jumping to his feet.

"Yeah," said Harry, as he regained his balance. "What was it?" Fred and George exchanged a look of pride.

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," said Fred, proudly. "George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer." It seemed that Dudley had picked up the one toffee that Fred had left behind. 

With more laughter, Harry's attention was brought towards the table where Ron, George, and the two strangers sat. 

"How you doing, Harry?" Asked the shorter of the two unknown gingers. He was built like the twins. Shorter and stockier than the likes of Ron who was lanky. He had the most freckles out of the whole Weasley family and Amelia noticed a large burn on his muscular arm. 

The second stranger stood up and shook Harry's hand. He was taller and had long, red hair that he wore in a low pony tail. In his ear was was an earring with some sort of fang hanging from it. In a word, they were cool. 

After shaking Harry's hand, the man turned to Amelia. "You must be Amelia," he said. "I'm Bill - the oldest." He had an effortless vibe to him. His charismatic grin alone made you want to get to know him more. "This is Charlie." He gestured to the freckled, muscular brother. He too stood. 

"Nice to meet you," said Amelia, shaking both of their hands. She noticed that Charlie's hands were a lot rougher and calloused than Bill's. With tough hands and a many burns, Amelia only had one question. "You don't work with dragons, do you?" She asked. Charlie smiled. 

"Yeah, I do," he told her. 

"Merlin, that sounds amazing," she said, earning another grin from Charlie. "I would love to do that. I bet it's great fun. Is it dange-"

Amelia never got to finish her last question. Mr Weasley had just walked through the fireplace and he did not look happy. "That wasn't funny, Fred," he said through gritted teeth. "What did you give that muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything," Fred replied with a rehearsed innocence. "I just dropped it. It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to." Mr Weasleys face was going red. 

"You dropped it on purpose!" he shouted. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet-"

"How big did his tongue get?" George interrupted, curiously. Mr Weasley huffed. 

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!" Harry, Amelia, and the Weasleys couldn't help but laugh at the thought of that fat boy with four foot tongue. "It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley shouted. "That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard and Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons-"

"We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" Fred assured him, as if offended by the idea.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git," said George. "Isn't he?" He looked at Harry and Amelia for back up. 

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley," said Harry honestly. 

"Really, he's horrible," Amelia chimed in.

"That's not the point!" Mr. Weasley continued. "You wait until I tell your mother-"

"Tell me what?" said a voice behind them. Mrs. Weasley walked up to the table. Her kind face was narrowed with suspicion. "Oh hello, Harry, dear, and Amelia," she said, spotting the two non gingers and smiling kindly. Amelia had never seen a face switch between a smile and a glare as quickly as Mrs Weasley's did as she looked back towards her husband. "Tell me what, Arthur?"

But Mr Weasley seemed a lot more hesitant now that his wife was actually there. Thankfully, two people came to their rescue. Ginny Weasley - the youngest Weasley sibling - appeared in the doorway alongside Hermione Granger. Amelia had always liked Hermione. She had big, bushy hair, large front teeth, and a love of learning. When Amelia had first met her on the train, she thought Hermione would've been a Ravenclaw (due to her obvious smarts) or a Hufflepuff ( due to her kindness and hard working nature as she helped a boy called Neville find his toad). But she was more than met the eye and ended up in Gryffindor.

"Tell me what, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley repeated. Her voice had the tone of anger that only a mother can have.

"It's nothing, Molly," Mr. Weasley said, rather unconvincingly, "Fred and George just... but I've had words with them-"

"What have they done this time?" said Mrs. Weasley. "If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes-"

"Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" said Hermione from the doorway, rather urgently. She was eager to get out of the kitchen an avoid witnessing Mrs Weasley's wrath.

"He knows where he's sleeping," said Ron, completely oblivious to what Hermione was trying to do, "in my room, he slept there last time-"

"We can all go," said Hermione, hoping someone would catch onto what she was doing. Amelia, also not wanting to see the twins be ripped to shreds by their mother, chimed in.

"I think that's a great idea," she said. She took both Ron and Harry by the arm and dragged them towards the door. Hermione rolled her eyes at her two male friends before shooting Amelia a thankful look. 

"Yeah, we'll come too," said George, getting to his feet.

"You stay where you are!" Snapped Mrs. Weasley. Harry and Ron finally seemed to catch onto Hermione's plan as they snuck out the kitchen. Along with Ginny, the four of them went along the narrow hallway before ascending up the old staircase. 

"What are Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked as they continued up the stairs. Ron and Ginny laughed, though Amelia couldn't help but notice that Hermione seemed to glare at no one in particular. 

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room," said Ron in a hushed voice, worried that his mother might hear him. "Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that." 

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things," said Ginny. "We thought they just liked the noise." 

Ron went on to explain that a lot of the stuff was bit dangerous. Apparently Mrs Weasley had been absolutely furious and burned all of the order forms and receipts. 

Fred and George hadn't gotten as many O.W.L.s as their parents were expecting so the fact that they were wasting their time with silly jokes hadn't went down well with Mrs Weasley. "And then there was this big row," Ginny explained, "because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop." 

Amelia would've made a comment about why a joke shop wasn't exactly a stable career path but she never got to make it as a door on one of the landings opened. Percy Weasley, a studious looking boy with glasses and slightly messy hair, poked his head out. 

"Hi, Percy," said Harry and Amelia in unison. 

"Oh hello," said Percy. "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know. I've got a report to finish for the office and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."

"We're not thundering," said Ron irritably. "We're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic." Amelia liked people who had their lives figured out and valued intelligence but Percy Weasley took it a little far. Just because he was smart, he believed himself better than the rest of his family. His brains had turned him snobbish and annoying.

"What are you working on?" said Harry. He didn't sound too interested but he was trying to be polite. 

"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," said Percy with a sense of pride, similar to that of the twins. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin. Leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year."

"That'll change the world, that report will," said Ron. "Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks." Amelia couldn't help but laugh. She tried to disguise it with a cough but that just brought more attention to her. Percy went slightly pink.

"You might sneer, Ron," he said pompously, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products that seriously endanger —"

"Yeah, yeah, all right," said Ron, and he started off upstairs again. Percy slammed his bedroom door shut. The others raced after Ron. As they reached his bedroom door, shouting came up from the kitchen. 

"He must've told her about the toffees," said Amelia as she pictured Mrs Weasley screaming at her sons while Charlie and Bill tried not to make their smiles too obvious.

The five of them stepped into Ron's room. Amelia had never been to the burrow before but Ron's bedroom looked like what she suspected it would. The walls were completely covered in moving posters of the Chudley Cannon - Rons favourite Quidditch team. On the window sill was a fish tank that was inhabited by a large frog. A small owl hooted around the room, dive bombing Amelia's head. She definitely preferred Ron's other pet.

"Ron, do you still have that rat?" She asked. Harry, Ron, and Hermione gave each other a strange look that Amelia couldn't identify. 

"Um," said Ron, still staring at the others for help. "I lost it at the end of last term." 

"Oh," said Amelia, not at all convinced. "Sorry about that." He shook his head and his chest seemed to deflate slightly. 

Four beds had been squashed into the room, making it look even smaller. Amelia wondered who else would be sleeping here. "Fred and George are in here with us," Ron said to Harry. "Bill and Charlie are in their room." 

"And you're in my room," said Ginny to Amelia. "You, me, and Hermione." Amelia was silently glad she wouldn't have to stay in Ron's room with four boys. So she smiled at Ginny and thanked her. 

"How come Percy gets a room to himself?" Amelia asked Ron and Ginny. It didn't really seem fair. 

"Because he's got to work," grumbled Ron. It was obvious that he wasn't too pleased about it either. The tiny owl made another dive towards Amelia's head, almost causing her to hit it out of the air. 

"Stop it, Pig," said Ron, clearly very frustrated with the owl. 

"Er, why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked Ron.

"Because he's being stupid," said Ginny. "Its proper name is Pigwidgeon." Ron scoffed. 

"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Ginny named him," he explained to Harry, who looked a little confused. Although, come to think of it, he always looked confused. "She reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too, come to that." 

Amelia decided that Pig annoyed her as well. 

"Where's Crookshanks?" Amelia asked Hermione, thinking about cats. 

"Out in the garden, I expect," she said. "He likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before." Amelia made a mental note to visit the big, ginger cat. 

"Percy's enjoying work, then?" Asked Harry, sitting down on one of the beds and staring up at the poster that were plastered to the lopsided ceiling. 

"Enjoying it?" said Ron, a grin on his lips. "I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch . . . as I was saying to Mr. Crouch . . . Mr. Crouch is of the opinion . . . Mr. Crouch was telling me . . . They'll be announcing their engagement any day now." They laughed at the last comment. Amelia wasn't sure who Mr Crouch was but the image of Percy in a big, white wedding dress amused her. 

"Did you have a good summer," Hermione Asked Harry. "Did you get the food parcels we sent you?" 

"Yeah, thanks a lot, they saved my life," Harry said. Apparently, Mrs Dursley has been trying to force a diet on the family. 

"And have you heard from..." Ron trailed off as his eyes widened. He looked at Ginny and Amelia, worried for some reason. 

"From who?" Amelia asked. The three gave each other the same look they had when she had asked about the old rat. 

"I think they've stopped arguing," said Hermione, slightly out of the blue. "Shall we go downstairs and help with dinner?" 

Although Amelia was extremely curious about who Harry had been writing to over the summer, she put it aside and helped set the table in the garden. Her eyes remained on Charlie and Bill as they carried the chairs outside. 

How unfair, she thought, that the two best looking Weasleys were also the oldest.


	2. The Quidditch World Cup

Dinner with the Weasleys was different to her usual ones, to say the least. In her house there were three people to fill up a table. While with the Weasleys, there were twelve. Everyone was bumping elbows and getting in the way of the food but the family environment made it enjoyable. Amelia felt slightly bad for George, who was sitting on her left. Amelia was left handed which meant her left arm kept hitting against his right. 

Mrs Weasley's food was absolutely delicious. It had that touch of something that only a mother can cook. She could see everybody eating as if they might never get the chance again. Amelia suspected that a lot of the Weasley's shared Ron's love of food. 

Fred and George were both a lot quieter than usual. Their latest row had definitely taken a toll on them. Mrs Weasley's eyes were flashing dangerously whenever she looked at the two of them. Amelia was wishing that she hadn't agreed to sit in between the twins, as she would get the blow if another shouting match started up. Mrs Weasley had asked Amelia to sit in between the twins, just in case they started acting up again. 

Percy ranted for the majority of the dinner - about Mr Crouch, or the apparent idiot, Ludo Bagman. Amelia had learned at an early age how to tune people with boring jobs out, but then something caught her attention. A woman who worked in Percy's department called, Bertha Jorkins, had apparently gone missing. That was never a great of thing to hear. 

The evening came to an end with Percy storming back up to his bedroom after a few comments from the twins. Sensing another row, Amelia sank low in her chair, as to avoid the wrath of Mrs Weasley. 

Mr Weasley, also sensing a row, told all the children that it was probably time to get to bed. They would have to be up early to get to the World Cup. Amelia had almost forgotten. The tired feeling she had gotten from being so full of food disappeared and was replaced by one of excitement. Mrs Weasley called back Harry and Amelia before they could reach the house however. 

"Harry, Amelia, if you two leave your school list out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time." 

"Well I hope it does this time too," said Harry with a level of enthusiasm that could match that of Oliver Wood. 

Amelia, as she walked up stairs behind Ginny and Hermione, could not stop smiling. In the morning, she would be going to the Quidditch World Cup with her friends. Tomorrow would make up for the boring summer she had had up until that day.

-

Amelia was the first one awake in the burrow on the morning of the Quidditch World Cup. She tiredly sat up, the sun gleaming through the curtains, and looked over at the other two girls. Hermione's hair seemed to have grown several sizes overnight and Ginny had ended up dangling half off of her bed. 

Although she was feeling like she needed at least another few hours of sleep, she couldn't wait for everyone to wake up. The World Cup was just around the corner and she was practically shaking with anticipation. However, she was still a teenager and she needed her sleep. Seeing Ginny and Hermione with their eyes closed and messy hair, drew her back to slumber. 

She woke again after what felt like seconds. Mrs Weasley was standing in the doorway and she was attempting to get the girls out of bed for breakfast. 

"We're coming, Mum," said Ginny, although she made no effort to move and her eyes were still closed. Mrs Weasley merely shrugged and with a knowing smile said,

"Alright then, I suppose your brothers will just have to leave without you."

Both Ginny and Amelia's eyes shot open. The jumped up from their beds and dragged the half asleep Hermione up onto her feet. They quickly got dressed, far too tired to start a conversation, but Ginny and Amelia were reading each other's mind. They were both too excited to express their happiness out loud. 

The three girls left Ginny's room and made their way down the tall staircase. Even as she walked, Amelia felt like she could've fallen back asleep at any moment. The only thing that kept her upright was the image of brooms flying around a stadium. 

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Ginny asked her father as the girls entered the kitchen. Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley were already there. Amelia's eyes widened momentarily as she saw what Mr Weasley was wearing. He looked like he was going golfing as he wore one of those ridiculous sweaters. She shot a glance at Hermione, the only other muggle-born, who just shrugged. 

"Well, we've got a bit of a walk," said Mr Weasley in response to his daughter question. 

"Walk?" said Harry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?" Amelia saw the tired expression on his face. She doubted any of the children were up for anything strenuous. 

"No, no, that's miles away," said Mr. Weasley, causing Amelia to quietly sigh in relief. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup-"

"George!" Shouted Mrs. Weasley as sharply as if she were brandishing a whip. In their tired states, everyone jumped back from the woman. 

"What?" said George, trying to act as innocent as possible. Mrs Weasley's eyes were like roaring fires. 

"What is that in your pocket?" She demanded. Amelia looked at George's pocket. She saw a wrapper of those ton-tongue-toffees. 

"Nothing!" George said, his hand immediately going to the pocket in question. 

"Don't you lie to me!" Mrs Weasley roared. She took out her wand and aimed it towards her son. "Accio!" The bright wrappers, still containing toffees, flew from his pocket and into Mrs Weasley's hand. She looked like she would start spitting venom in that moment. "We told you to destroy them!" she shouted, waving the toffees in a clenched fist. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

The twins turned out their pockets and Mrs Weasley used more summoning charms to ensure that every toffee was in her possession. 

The event had certainly put a damper on the morning but as the group left the Burrow and waved to Mrs Weasley, they all silently agreed not to speak of it again. 

The dreich early morning was slowly turning into a rather pleasant summers day, unfortunately they were stuck in the time between the two as they watched the sun rise over the grey horizon. Amelia distantly listen to a conversation Mr Weasley was having with Harry about Portkey. She chatted excitedly with Ginny and Ron about who they thought would win the final match. 

"It has to be Ireland," said Amelia. "It jut has to be."

"I'm not so sure," said Ron. Both Ginny and Amelia glared at him through surprise. He immediately raised his hands in a somewhat lazy surrender. "Don't get me wrong, I want them to win, but Bulgaria's got Krum."

Victor Krum, the Bulgarian seeker, was going to be a lot of trouble for the Irish team. He was incredible at Quidditch, even in his youth. 

"Ron's in love with Krum," Ginny explained much to Amelia's amusement. 

"I don't blame you, Ron," said Amelia. "He's quite pretty." Fred and George appeared either side of Amelia, both resting an arm on her shoulders. 

"Our little Amelia would know all about pretty boys," said Fred, grinning at her. Confusion spread across her face. 

"Meaning?"

"Are you not besties with Cedric Diggory?" Asked George. Amelia rolled her eyes.

"He's just a friend," she said, defensively. "He let me sit next to him on the train when we first went to Hogwarts." Fred and George exchanged a glance over the top of Amelia's head. "And plus, he's not as dim as everyone thinks he is. He actually very smart-"

"Yeah, Alright, we get it," said Fred. "Just because you're in love with him doesn't mean we all have to be too." Amelia stepped backwards so that the twins, who were both resting an arm on her shoulder, lost balance and their heads collided. 

Ginny and Ron burst out laughing at the pair, who were holding their heads and swearing. 

"Boys, that's enough!" Called back Mr Weasley. "We're here." 

The group searched around the hill for the portkey. They weren't sure what it was going to be but they would know it when they saw it. Thankfully, their search came to a quick end as a voice called out, "Over here, son, we've got it!"

Everyone looked around to see who the unknown voice belonged to. Amelia recognised it but couldn't place a name or face to it. 

"Amos!" said Mr. Weasley. Amelia spun around to see Mr Weasley walking over to Amos Diggory, smiling as he went. Next to Amos was his tall, dashing son. 

"Cedric!" Amelia called out. She ran over to her fellow Hufflepuff and hugged him, earning a snigger from Fred and George.  
She turned her head and shot a glare in their direction which silenced them. 

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric was widely known, even amongst Gryffindors. Everyone knew he was captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Hufflepuff had beaten Gryffindor last year in a very rainy match which had involved some dementors. Amelia believed that Fred and George had never truly forgiven Cedric for leading his team to a small, singular victory. 

"Hi," said Cedric, smiling. Fred and George were the only ones to not say hi back. 

"Long walk, Arthur?" Amos asked. 

Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still, not complaining . Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons, and the tickets cost about that." Amos looked at all the kids that Mr Weasley had brought with him. "Mind you, looks like I got off easy. All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's. And you know Amelia already. And Harry, another friend of-"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, in a voice of utter shock and surprise. "Harry? Harry Potter?" Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other, rather awkwardly. 

"Er - yeah," said Harry. Amelia could tell he felt very uncomfortable. 

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing against you last year. I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. You beat Harry Potter!" Even though she wasn't looking at them, she just knew that Fred and George were glaring at the man. Harry looked slightly taken aback by what Amos had said. 

Amos Diggory was a man who meant well but didn't always say the right thing. His son, to him, was perfect. Good at Quidditch, good at school, strong, handsome, kind. He always needed to make sure his son was never overshadowed.

Cedric on the other hand, was not a boaster. He looked very embarrassed by his fathers comment. 

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you, it was an accident."

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" Said Amos in a loud and cheery voice. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman. But the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier! Isn't that right, Amelia." Amelia's eyes widened, she had not expected to have been put on the spot. 

"Um-"

"Must be nearly time," said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch and diverting the conversation away from Cedric vs Harry. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr. Diggory. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off. We'd better get ready."  
He looked around at Harry, Hermione and Amelia.

"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do." Amelia nodded, she already knew how a portkey worked from when she used one in during the summer after her second. She had been at Cedric's house and since her fireplace wasn't with the floo network, it was the only way to quickly get home.

This portkey was an old boot. Due to its small size and everyone's large backpacks, it was difficult for them all to crowd around it. In the silence that followed as they waited, Amelia realised how cold it was and wished she had brought a bigger coat.

"Three," Said Mr. Weasley, looking down at his watch. Amelia braced herself.  
"two . . . one-"

Traveling by portkey was a sensation that Amelia knew she was never going to get used to. Ginny and Cedric's shoulder kept bumping into her own, making it very uncomfortable. Her finger was stuck the boot as if someone had layered it in super glue. Her head was quickly dizzying and she worried she might faint. 

But then her feet found solid ground. Cedric managed to catch her before she fell flat on her face. Everyone apart from her, Cedric, Amos, and Mr Weasley, had fallen over into the grass. It took everything inside Amelia not to laugh. 

They were all told where their campsites were and who to ask for when they got there. Amelia said a goodbye to Cedric and they promised to meet up once they had all gotten settled in. Amelia, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys made their way to the first field and saw a man that Amelia knew was the only muggle for miles. 

"Morning!" said Mr. Weasley with a cheery smile on his face. He was fascinated with muggles. 

"Morning," said the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?" Mr Weasley Asked. 

"Aye, I would," said Mr. Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?" He told him slowly so that Mr Roberts could look at his list of names. 

"Aye," said Mr. Roberts, as he found Weasley. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?" He made sure. 

"That's it," confirmed Mr. Weasley. Mr Roberts looked at him expectantly. 

"You'll be paying now, then?" Asked Mr. Roberts. The colour slightly drained from Mr Weasleys face. 

"Ah, right. Certainly" said Mr. Weasley. He took a step back from Mr Roberts and beckoned Harry towards him. The two of them worked out the muggle money that Mr Weasley was so unfamiliar with.

"You foreign?" Mr Roberts asked as Mr Weasley finally handed over the money. 

"Foreign?" Mr Weasley asked, clearly a little confused. 

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," said Mr. Roberts. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley, somewhat nervously. The muggle continued as he searched for some change. 

"Never been this crowded," he said, looking up towards the fields. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up."

"Is that right?" said Mr. Weasley. He held his hand out to take the change but Mr Roberts didn't hand it over, 

"Aye," he said. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" said Mr. Weasley anxiously. Mr Roberts didn't seem to take notice of Mr Weasleys anxiousness. 

"It's like some sort of - I dunno - like some sort of rally," said Mr. Roberts. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

A man suddenly apparated next to Mr Roberts. "Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts. He had had his memory modified. After that Mr Roberts handed them a map of the campsite and they quickly left. 

The wizard who had obliviated the muggle accompanied them to the gate. He explained that they had had a lot of trouble with some of the muggles and that it wasn't helping that a man named Ludo Bagman was talking loudly about some very magical things. 

Amelia had heard of Ludo Bagman from one of the times she had spent a weekend at the Diggory’s during the Easter holidays of her third year at Hogwarts. Amos had been retelling one of Bagman's legendary matches while he was with the Wilbourne Wasps. After hearing that Amelia was keen to tryout for the Hufflepuff team, he was eager to tell her about all the greats. 

Now that she knew that some of the famous Quidditch players she had read about were actually here, it amplified her excitement even more. 

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," said Ginny, as the wizard parted with them. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," said Mr. Weasley, speaking almost as if he were reminiscing about something, "but Ludo's always been a bit, well, lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

By the time they reached their tent, Amelia was practically giddy. Her whole body was shaking with excitement, so much so that she didn't care that they would be pitching the tents themselves. Amelia had been camping a few times with her parents, as had Hermione, so between them all, they managed to pitch two small tents. 

Amelia and Hermione glanced at each other with a puzzled look. Both tents looked like they could hold two people at most. Once Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, there would be eleven of them. 

Mr Weasley crawled into one of the tents and the other Weasleys followed. Harry, Hermione, and Amelia were wondering how on Earth they were all fitting inside. They all looked at each other. 

"Magic?" Said Amelia with a shrug. She followed the Weasleys inside and was delighted to see that the inside of the tent had a bathroom, kitchen, and bedrooms. Hermione and Harry followed after, both beaming at the interior. 

Amelia, Hermione, and Ginny quickly put their things in the second tent which was for the girls. 

Amelia knew that this was going to be the best camping trip she had ever been on.

-

"That was the most incredible thing I've ever seen! I mean - did you see that wronski feint? That was amazing! But then the Irish chasers were so good. Krum definitely made the right decision to end the match before things got embarrassing for the Bulgarians. Oh and the Irish beaters-"

"Merlin, Amelia, will you please shut up." The others had thoroughly enjoyed the match but Amelia's enthusiasm exceeded some of theirs. Harry, Ginny, and Ron seemed to be the only other ones that were still obsessing over the match. They were all in the boy's tent, drinking hot chocolate and talking excitedly about the match. 

With Amelia's rant on the different players silenced, Ron took the time to praise his favourite player.

"There's no one like Krum," he said, rather out of the blue. "He like a bird, the way he rides the wind." Amelia could help but smile along with the others. "He more than just a player, he's an artist." 

"I think you're in love, Ron," said Ginny. Amelia choked on her drink. They all started to laugh at the red faced Ron.

"Victor, I love you," Fred and George sang. "Victor, I do."

"When we're apart, my heart beats only for you!" 

It was an adrenaline rush like no other. To be so excited and be surrounded by those who feel the same. With the noise from the Irish outside and the giddiness inside, no one was sleeping anytime soon.

As Ginny jumped up from the table to see the fireworks that were being set off outside, Harry joined Amelia and handed her a new mug of hot chocolate. "Thank you" she told him as the hot china heated up her entire body through her hands. Harry smiled at her as she took a sip, the liquid almost burning her tongue. "I'm going to tryout for the quidditch team this year."

"Really?" He asked, excitedly. When she nodded, he sat up straighter. "What position?"

"Well, I know I've not got the typical build but I think I would be a great keeper," she explained. "I used to be on my schools football team and I never lost a match."

"That's great, Amelia," he beamed. "Is Cedric still captain this year?" Amelia opened her mouth to answer but she stopped herself. The past two years, Cedric had shown off his letter of appointment that told the world he would once again captain the Hufflepuff team. No such letter had arrived this year. 

"I don't know," she admitted after a moment. "I hope so - it would really give me an edge in tryouts."

"You don't need Cedric," Harry told her dismissively. "You're sure to get it on talent alone." She smiled at him over the rim of her mug of hot chocolate. Everything in her felt warm - the magic fireplace, the orange light of the tent, the hot chocolate in her veins. Harry's face always had a habit of making her blush. 

"Have you heard who the Gryffindor captain is this year?" She asked him, shaking out of her sleepy eyed state. Harry shook his head. "That's strange, with Wood gone I thought you would've been a shoe-in for the role." It was a lie. Amelia knew, without having to be told, that the next best player on the team was Angelina Johnson. She had the real making of a captain. However, something about Harry's grinning face made her want to shower him in compliments. 

"It's probably Angelina," Harry told her, unknowingly agreeing with her. "I doubt they'd give the job to a fourth year." 

"You're right," she agreed. Peering over Harry's shoulder, Amelia couldn't help but laugh at what she saw. Ginny, mid conversation with the twins, had fallen asleep. Harry followed her gaze and laughed as well. "I think the high of the match is wearing off a bit." 

Harry's yawn confirmed this. "Yeah," he said through it. They watched as Mr. Weasley gently woke up his daughter and led her in the direction of the girl's tent. 

"I think it's time for bed, everyone," he called to the tents inhabitants. Fred and George's protests were drowned out by the tired murmers of agreement from everyone else. Amelia and Hermione caught each other eyes and silently agreed it was bedtime. Once at the entrance of the tent, Amelia took one last look at Harry, offering a smile. He smiled back and she turned, ready for sleep. 

-

Sleep came quickly. With the excitement of the match firmly settled in the back of her mind, exhaustion filled Amelia. Her slumber came to an end far too quickly for her liking. It was one of those rests that are over before they truly begin. However, when she opened her eyes, she wasn't met with the warm light of the Weasley’s tent. Instead, the room she awoke in was dark and had a definite green tinge. She was reminded of the Slytherin common room, of which she had only heard descriptions. 

She sat up, only then becoming aware of the silk sheeted, king size bed that she lay on. It was unbelievably comfortable - had she not been so concerned with her new environment, she would've surely fallen back asleep.

Where was she? She had never been anywhere that looked quite like this. The low light seemed to have no source and the bed was all that dwelled inside. It wasn't until her eyes adjusted to the dark that she saw him.

A hunched over figure sat on a chair near the end of the bed. His posture did not allow Amelia to see his face and she wondered if he too were just waking up. Filled with fear, she watched as he looked up from the floor. His eyes fell upon her and she froze under his glare. 

"Hmm," he grunted as he took her in. He seemed unimpressed and uninterested with her. He had a pointed face and she imagined that he must have been a very handsome young man. He had a look about him where she couldn't tell whether he was thirty or sixty - he was timeless. His rugged, black beard framed his chiselled face and made his dark green eyes piercing. "So you're the replacement?" 

Amelia wanted to ask the man what he meant but no words came to her. "You're a lot younger than the last one." 

"I don't understand," she managed. The man rolled his eyes. 

"Of course you don't," he told her. "I bet you don't even know who I am."

"Who are you?" She asked, feeling slightly foolish.

"Exactly," he said. "Would you care to venture a guess? Take a look around." Amelia only felt more confused. She had no answer for the man, she had no idea what was going on. "No?" He asked. "Give up?"

Amelia nodded, admitting defeat. "My name is Salazar Slytherin."

Amelia's mouth fell open. "Sal-"

He grinned at her confusion. He seemed to find her amusing, like a man watching his hamster fall off its wheel. "Salazar Slytherin. I suppose I should explain."

"Please do," she said, her eyes wide. It was like she was scared to blink - as if in that millisecond of vulnerability, he would attack. 

"Whenever Hogwarts is threatened, it is the duty of the founders to protect it. Now of course, I am long dead and therefore cannot protect my school myself. I have no body, I am but a soul. That is why, in times of wizarding war, four individuals are chosen to act for us. In the last war, against Lord Voldemort, Regulus Black often acted on my behalf-"

"Sirius Black's brother?" She asked before she could stop herself. Salazar looked at her darkly. 

"Yes," he said. "As you will be well aware, it would seem my guidance was enough to help end the war but not save him. For your sake, we will have to hope I do better this time."

"But there isn't a war,"she told him. "Voldemort is dead. He has been for thirteen years."

"He will return," he explained bluntly. "Otherwise, you would not have woken here."

"Where is here?" She asked, letting her eyes wander around the room.

"A place between the worlds of the living and the dead. Like myself, you are currently merely your soul. Your body is still in your world," he explained. "Outside that door is a corridor that leads to three other rooms. One for each of the Hogwarts founders. Helga, Rowena, and Godric will be meeting their new pupils as well. Oh, that reminds me, who are you?"

Amelia paused. If he didn't know who she was, then that meant he hadn't picked her. She had been selected by fate itself. She wondered who else had been chosen. Did she know the others who sat in the rooms beyond the door? Was Harry sitting with Godric Gryffindor at this very moment?

"Amelia Blackwood," she told him. He considered her for a moment.

"I don't recognise that surname," he said. "What wizarding family are you related to?"

"Oh," she said. It was then that she remembered. Slytherin hated muggleborns. "Well, my aunt was magic," she explained. "But my- my parents are muggles."

He stared at her for a long moment, taking this in. She half expected him to pull out his wand and attack. Instead, he asked another question.

"You aren't in Slytherin, are you?" She shook her head. "What are you?" Amelia gulped.

"Hufflepuff."

The word was barely out her mouth when Salazar stood and stormed out of the green tinged room. With the door left open, she could hear him march into another room. 

"There's been a mistake," she heard him say.

"A mistake?" A woman asked. "No, no, there can't be a mistake." She sounded incredibly calm, like the tall, terrifying man did very little to scare her. 

"She's a hufflepuff- a muggleborn!" He shouted. "You! You. What house are you in?"

Another quiet voice answered. "R-ravenclaw, sir."

"You see!" Salazar shouted. "There's been a mistake."

"There are no mistakes," the woman argued, still very calm. "What done is done. She was chosen for a reason. You are meant to guide her."

"What the hell am I meant to do with a hufflepuff?" He demanded. "Tell her the best spots for a picnic? Give her advice on who to send thank you cards to?"

"You know very well there is more to my house than that," the woman, who must be Hufflepuff herself, told him. "We are loyal, we are hardworking-"

"You are the miscellaneous of Hogwarts!" The door slammed and Salazar returned, sitting back down in his chair. 

Amelia was shaking from head to toe. What was he going to do with her?

He stared at her with nothing but contempt. If looks could kill, it would seem Amelia would never return to her body. 

"I'm sorry," was all she could say. 

"I would expect nothing less from a badger," he said. "It would seem it's time for you to wake up now. Be careful or whatever."

She barely had time to raise an eyebrow before the world in front of her began to swim. Like a puddle being splashed, everything was thrown side ways and suddenly - she was back in the tent with Hermione and Ginny.

Mr. Weasley was there, standing by the entrance, yelling. 

"Come on, girls, we have to go. We have to leave right now!" 

Amelias head was all over the place. She half wondered if what had just happened was all a dream. She hoped it was, it was better than the alternative. 

If what had happened was real, Voldemort was going to return. There was to be another wizarding war. As she, Hermione, and Ginny quickly got out of bed to follow Mr. Weasley, she thought of Harry. If everything was true, he would be in grave danger.

Her worry only doubled when she actually saw him. All the Weasleys stood by the tent entrance as they took in the sight before them. 

A riot had erupted and Amelia had the awful feeling that it wasn't due to the match result. This wasn't the celebrating Irish or the defeated Bulgarians. A group of mask wearing wizards seemed to be marching together, and above them, three figures were suspended in the air. 

She recognised one of them as Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager who had met the Weasleys earlier that day. She suspected the others, a woman and a young girl who must be the muggle's wife and daughter. 

Amelia watched in horror as the woman turned, feet in the air, and her underwear was put on display. 

"That's sick," scorned Ron, looking up to the sky with outrage. "That's really sick." 

"We're going to help the ministry," Mr. Weasley informed them, referring to himself and his oldest sons. "You lot — get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

It turned out, getting to the woods was not going to be an easy task. It would seem that everyone else on the campsite had the same idea. It was a stampede. Everyone pushed and shoved their way forward, desperate to get to the relative safety of the tree line. 

Once there, Harry kept a death grip on the sleeve of Amelias coat (which she was wearing over her pyjamas) so they wouldn't lose each other. They could hear children crying and people shouting as more and more got to the woods. The crowd began to thin out as most passed them. 

"Ow," they heard Ron shout.

"What happened? Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid — lumos!" Hermione illuminated the tip of her wand. Amelias eyes adjusted and she saw that they had lost Ginny and the twins in the commotion. 

"Tripped on a tree root," Ron explained, holding his sore foot.

"Well, with feet that big, it's hard not to," came a new voice. They four of them whirled around to see Draco Malfoy, who was leaning far too causally against a tree. He seemed very at ease - so unlike them. 

"Oh, fuck off, Malfoy," Ron told him, not holding his back his anger and frustration. 

"Language, Weasley," Malfoy taunted. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like those two spotted, would you?"

He nodded to Hermione and Amelia. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione demanded. Amelia felt a little sick. She had a funny feeling she knew exactly what Malfoy meant. 

"Granger, they're after muggles," he told her with a smile. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around, they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"We're not muggles, Malfoy," Amelia spat.

"They're witches," Harry told him, angrily. Malfoy grinned. 

"Have it your way, Potter," he said, "but if you think they can't spot a mudblood, stay where you are."

The word struck Amelia like a slap across the face. She heard the beginning of a scolding from Ron for Malfoy's choice of vocabulary and she felt herself falling. 

She never hit the ground, instead, she bolted upright in that king sized bed of Salazar Slytherins.

"And another thing!" He said, as if she had never left. But she cut him off. She jumped out from underneath the covers, still boiling with anger from the word Malfoy had used. 

"I hate Slytherin!" She shouted, marching right up to the man himself. "I hate all of them! You think you're better than us but you're not! You are so much worse! I need to wake up and I need to right now! Death eaters are getting closer with every second and the last thing I need is to give them the prize of my unconscious mudblood body!"

Silence fell over the room like a thick blanket. Amelia breathed heavily as she stared up at the man who represented everything she hated. She half expected him to strike her dead then and there like a god she had disrespected.

Instead, he swallowed hard and appeared almost guilty. 

"Very well," he said. With a snap of his fingers, she awoke in Harry's arms, surrounded by half a dozen ministry employees and a house elf.

"Amelia!" Harry exclaimed, relief filling him as he saw her eyes open. Dizziness caused the forest around her to sway as if a large child had just got on the other end of a seesaw. Everyone turned their attention away from the distraught house elf towards Amelia and Harry. He tried to set her steadily on her feet but the second they hit the ground, she felt as though her brain had been set free to wobble about her skull. She clung onto his arm, which he offered readily to keep her upright. 

"Amelia, what happened?" She looked up to find the source of her voice. Amos Diggory was among the ministry officials that surrounded them and she half wished Cedric was with them too. 

"I-" She thought about how ridiculous it would sound if she told them she had just been over to Salazar Slytherin's house for a wee chat. They would never believe her. "I don't know," she settled with. 

"It's been a very trying night," came the voice of Mr. Weasley. "You can't blame anyone for being overwhelmed." 

A man wearing a bowler hat stood amongst the ministry officials. He wore a sour expression and Amelia recognised him from Percy's ramblings as Barty Crouch, head of the department of International Magical Cooperation. His eyes weren't on Harry and Amelia like everyone else's. He kept glancing between the house elf, who was crying hysterically, and the sky. Amelia followed his gaze and saw what was lighting up the sky and casting a pale green tinge in them all. 

It was the dark mark. 

Hermione had told her about this mark in their first year. It was important, she had said, for muggleborns to stick together. It was his mark. Voldemort's mark. 

"They think it was Winky," Hermione told her when she saw that she had seen it. Winky, as it turned out, was the house elf before them. "It's completely ridiculous!"

"I have no use for a house elf that disobeys me," said Crouch in cold, pointed voice. It would seem he and Hermione had very different views of what a house elf should or should not do. "I have no use for a servant that forgets what is due to her master, and her master's reputation."

Winky cried even harder, her sobs becoming painful to listen to. Amelia had to admit she knew very little about house elfs, winky being the first one she had ever seen in person. No matter the context however, she knew she disapproved of any type of slave labour, no matter how it was justified to those who benefitted from it. 

Mr. Weasley decided then that the four teenagers before him had had enough drama for one night. He excused them from the ministry officials and led them away from the scene of the crime. 

While Hermione seemed concerned for the house elf they'd left behind, Amelia's thoughts were of what Salazar had told her. Voldemort was coming back and, by the looks of it, it was going to happen soon. 

"I don't quite understand what happened back there," Amelia admitted as they walked through the woods, towards the port keys. She was still leaning on Harry for support as they trudged on. 

"Someone stole Harry's wand and conjured up that mark," explained Mr. Weasley. "Whoever did it then dropped the wand and disapperated, leaving poor Winky to pick it up."

"So Mr. Crouch set her free for being in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Amelia asked. 

"Precisely," he said. "Let's just hope this doesn't get out, Rita Skeeter would have a field day."

As they reached the campsite again, those who saw Mr. Weasley bombarded him with questions - one wizard even asking if You Know Who had conjured the mark. They managed to get past them all and back to the tent where they found the rest of the Weasleys sitting inside. They explained as best they could what had happened with Winky and Mr. Crouch. 

All Amelia wanted to do was go home. She wanted to forget about the mark, about Voldemort's return, about Salazar. But she could not. Now that he had brought her to his domain without her consent, she knew it hadn't been a dream. She wondered if she would ever get a good nights rest ever again; if her waking hours would be war filled and her sleeping ones, argumentative. 

She split up with Harry and the Weasleys once they arrived at the port keys. While theirs would take them back to the burrow, hers would take her near Private Drive. She bid farewell to them, taking an extra moment to say goodbye to Harry.

"Don't let the Dursley's be too harsh," he told her. "Tell them if they act up, I'll send my godfather." He began to laugh but quickly realised what he had said.

"Your godfather?" She asked, bewildered. “You really shouldn’t joke about that, Harry. He’s really dangerous.”

"Oh - yeah, definitely," he covered quickly. "Forget I said anything." Amelia didn't think this was something she'd forget soon enough. Perhaps it was a joke, perhaps he too had met a founder of hogwarts. She imagined him and Godric Gryffindor becoming fast friends and forming a father/son relationship. She couldn't risk being wrong though so she pushed him no further. 

"I'll see you soon," he told her, it was true, they wouldn't be apart long before they could reunite on the train to school. Nether the less, she would still miss him. 

"Goodbye, Harry," she said as she brought him into a hug. She found herself squeezing a little too tight. All the chaos of last night was building up and she needed some form of release. 

"Bye," he responded. "Maybe, if you want, we can sit in the same carriage." She grinned.

"Yeah, maybe."


	3. Going Back to Hogwarts

Amelia had decided not to tell her parents about what happened at the quidditch World Cup. She knew they would, in her opinion, overreact. They would lock her up in her bedroom and never let her go back to hogwarts for fear that a hair on their daughters head would be harmed. Even without the added danger, when she returned, they hugged her tight - like they never wanted to let go. 

"Merlin, mum," she said finally when her mother hugged her for the umpteenth time. "I was gone for two days!" 

"I know that," her mum said, defensively. "You can't blame a mother for being worried. Every time we send you away your not just going to another country, you're going to an entirely different world - one we know nothing about. Your father and I are allowed to be protective, we are owed that at least." 

"I understand that but you have to understand that the world you're sending me to is far safer than this one-"

"I beg to differ-"

"No, really, mum," she argued. "Think about it. There's these two really annoying boys in my year, Crabbe and Goyle. If we were in a muggle school and they wanted to beat me up, they could. They're very big, it would be very easy for them. But, cause we're in hogwarts, size doesn't win a fight, skill does."

Camilla was silent for a long moment. Amelia wasn't sure why, but she wasn't happy. 

"Is that what you think?" She asked her daughter sternly. Amelia didn't answer. She wasn't sure what root her mother was about to take here. She was wearing an extremely dark look but there was the faintest signs of a odd smile. "Your aunt was skilled, or at least that's what they told me. That didn't stop her from being killed in that wizarding war."

"But we're not in a war anymore, mum," she told her.

"How can you be sure there won't be another one?"

Amelia wasn't sure. In fact, she was certain of the opposite. Despite only meeting him briefly, she trusted Salazar. Not with her life, she wouldn't trust him to do the right thing, but she did trust him to tell the truth. What reason would he have to lie? 

That night, Amelia was scared to go to sleep. She didn't want to wake up in the cold, dark room. She could imagine, beyond the door where the other founders dwelled, rooms of a cosier nature. She thought of the great gryffindor fireplaces, the library like common room of ravenclaw, and of her own house. Oh, how she would love to wake up in the hobbit hole that was the hufflepuff common room.

However, her prayers were not answered and she woke in the silk sheeted bed. This time, Salazar was pacing back and forth. He stopped abruptly when he saw she was awake. 

"Your mother's a very paranoid woman," he said simply. Amelia looked at him puzzled. 

"How would you know that?" She asked. 

"I can see what you see," he told her. "Your house is lovely, by the way."

"What?" She demanded, climbing out of the bed. "That is complete breach of privacy. I never gave you permission to-"

"And I didn't want my candidate to be a hufflepuff, but we can't all get what we want." Amelia just stared at him angrily. After a moment, he sighed, somewhat resembling defeat. "Fine," he said. "I have to be able to see what you see. How else would I know how to guide you?"

"Guide me in what? There's no war," she argued. 

"Isn't there?" He asked. "Did you miss the huge skull in the sky? The hooded death eaters tormenting those muggles?" 

"Oh, of course," Amelia said sarcastically. "Please, guide me. Where can I buy one of those hoods so I can join the men that practically idolise you."

"They do not march on my behalf, let me assure you," he said, suddenly serious. "Yes, in my day I was foolish and ignorant, even I can admit that. But that is no longer how I feel. If it was, there's no way you'd still be talking to me. Did I not refer to you as muggleborn, rather than the less favourable term-"

"Oh wow, well done!" She interrupted. "You didn't call me a slur, would you like a medal?" Salazar opened his mouth to retort but no words came. "You're still just as ignorant as you once were. If you want to get better, if you want me to work with you, then you've really got to start educating yourself. Talk to Helga, perhaps. I think it would be good for you."

Salazar groaned. "If I wanted to be challenged on every little thing I said, I would've been happy with a candidate from gryffindor. I thought hufflepuffs were supposed to be nicer."

"No, we're just fairer," she told him. "We believe in justice and hard work and loyalty. We do not put up with bigots."

Salazar didn't concede with a nod, but he seemed to acknowledge her statement.

"Is this going to happen every night?" She asked him. "Will I come here every time I fall asleep?" Salazar shook his head.

"Only when I need you," he explained. 

"Why did you need me tonight?"

"I thought I should finish explaining our situation," he said. "We were interrupted last time by that ginger-"

"Mr. Weasley-"

"Whatever," he said, dismissively. "What matters is that I can continue to explain now. Since meeting you, I have spoken with the other founders. Each of the others that were chosen have something special about them. Godric's candidate is particularly good with legilimency. Helga's is a werewolf, and Rowena's is a seer. However, none of us could find anything special about you."

Amelia considered this for a moment. It had not made her feel any better about being 'chosen.' The others, it seemed, had a reason. Something that made them worth being chosen. Amelia had nothing. She was the daughter of two very ordinary muggles, she had no particular talents or abilities, she was the most average witch she could think of. 

"We thought about it for hours," he explained. "We looked into your past, your entire life, it took so long to find something."

Amelia's ear perked up. So they had found something after all. 

"You have this ability to make people like you," he said simply. "It is nothing to do with magic. You're not controlling them, you're not secretly part Veela, you just have this quality that makes people want to open up around you. I can't quite seem to understand it. You have managed to befriend important ministry officials, like Amos diggory, and young legends such as Harry Potter himself. Merlin, you even got hold of the Dursley's favour - that horrid family from across the street." 

Amelia was severely disappointed. 

"I won't lie, I don't like you a whole lot, but I think that's because all you've done is shout at me-"

"That's it?" She asked. "That's my great power. I'm nice? I don't give people reason to despise me? That it?!" Salazar seemed taken aback. "I'm just a walking talking hufflepuff stereotype, aren't I? I thought you were going to tell me something cool! Maybe I had a distant relative who was a vampire or a merperson, or maybe I can unknowingly speak parsletognue but no! A legilimencer, a werewolf, a seer, and a girl whos kind of nice!" 

"You have more in common with them than you think," Salazar told her. "The main thing being that you all have a connection to Harry Potter."

"Harry? What's this got to do with Harry?"

"It's got everything to do with him," he explained. "What do you think the first thing Voldemort will do when he returns. He's as slytherin as it gets - he's prideful. He'll want to prove that what the potter boy did as a baby was merely a fluke. He'll go after him and try to kill him." 

"But Harry never meant to do anything," she said. "I know him, he'll want nothing to do with-"

"I'm afraid that's not his decision," Salazar said. Amelia stares up at him and with all the naivety of a child, she said,

"It's not fair."

And Salazar despised her for it. To know that she had lived in a world where didn't until now realise was unfair. Half of him wanted to squash the remainder of her innocence so that she would have a chance in this world and the other half wanted to wrap her up in a blanket so that it would never be taken from her. 

"Life's not fair," he told her simply. "Speaking of, I'm afraid you cannot confide in your friend about his fate-"

"What?"

"This whole thing, our secret, must remain just that - a secret," he explained. "We risk too much if you tell the world you have a direct line the Salazar Slytherin. Think of the people who would try to manipulate you. The people who would try to benefit themselves from the power you hold. Do you understand?"

Begrudgingly, Amelia nodded, knowing his words to be true. Who knows what would happen to her if the ministry found out about her connection to Slytherin himself.

Amelia didn't hear from Salazar again until after she arrived at school. On the first of September, she prepared to return to the place he helped create. After a goodbye from her parents that, as always, seemed to go on and on, she was allowed to run through the wall between platforms nine and ten. 

The great scarlet steam train was always a sight to behold. Jumping on just in time, Amelia set off down the long corridor in search of her fellow hufflepuffs. She thought about joining Cedric's compartment as she passed but decided against it. It was his last year at school and she knew he would want to spend his last first day with his friends in seventh year. 

It didn't take long for her to find her compartment. She could see that her friends had already arrived and were eagerly awaiting her. 

"Amelia!" Hannah Abbott called out as Amelia slid open the compartment door. Hannah was a very bright, giggly girl with blonde hair. One thing you needed to know about Hannah is that was was extremely trusting. Her opinions were easily swayed if the person telling the story was convincing enough. Many a time Amelia would have to stop her from saying the wrong thing and getting her in trouble.

"Hi!" Amelia said excitedly, sitting herself down next to Justin. Justin was tall with brown hair and often appeared very ravenclaw-esque. Had he not gone to Hogwarts, he would've gone to Eton (which is a fact he only mentions four times a day). 

Ernie, who sat beside Hannah, had a grumpy look on his face. His arms were folded and he was deliberately staring out the window instead of at his friend. 

"Hey, what's up with you?" Amelia asked him. He glanced at her for barely a second before continuing to stare at the passing scenery of London. Hannah rolled her eyes at him.

"He's just being a baby," she assured her. "He jealous that-" Ernie huffed loudly.

"How comes your mum and dad let you go to the Weasley's during the summer but not mines?" He asked, dramatically. "I asked weeks ago and you said they wouldn't let you."

Despite Ernie's reputation for being a drama queen, Amelia did feel a twinge of guilt at his tone. Amelia loved Ernie just as much as she did the rest of her friends - she really did - but she wasn't stupid. Anyone could see from miles away that he fancied her. He had done since first year. Now, this didn't usually bother Amelia but, as the two of them got older, she could see he was becoming more confident. She knew that, had they had time alone together during the holidays, he would've confessed. 

"Well it's a bit different, Ernie," she told him. "You asked me to stay for two whole weeks, I was with the Weasleys for a day and a bit. And honestly, it was the World Cup! I was going even if my parents outright refused."

"Also, Harry was there," Justin offered, he alone was the only one who knew how uncomfortable Ernie's obvious crush made her. "Her parents have known Harry his whole life so they're bound to trust him."

Ernie huffed once again, though Amelia could see his dramatics cracking. "I suppose," he muttered. 

Amelia looked to her right - to Justin - and silently thanked him. 

As cities turned into town, towns into villages, and villages into the Scottish highlands, the hogwarts express grew ever closer to its destination. With roughly an hour left until they arrived, Amelia decided to take Harry up on his offer to hang in his compartment for a bit.

"Come meet us for the ride up to the castle," Hannah told her. 

"Will do," Amelia replied. She was about to leave when she saw that Ernie once again looked grumpy. She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly. "What is it now?"

"You just saw Harry," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You haven't seen us all summer and your already running back to him. 

"Christ, Ern, we've all been sitting here for hours," Justin thankfully butted in. "You can't blame her for wanting to stretch her legs."

Amelia nodded, agreeing with him. Hannah looked between them all, unsure who to side with. 

"I will literally not even be gone an hour," Amelia reassured them all. 

"It's fine," Justin told her with a grin. "Don't worry about him." 

Smiling back, she slid the compartment door open and closed and set off down the corridor. 

She couldn't have been barely half way down the train before a door opened and none other than Cedric Diggory emerged from inside. 

"Amelia!" He said gleefully. 

"Hi, Cedric."

"You usually pop your head in and say hello," be told her. " I've missed you." It had not been long at all since they had last seen each other but nether the less, she agreed and gave him a big hug. 

"I've missed you too," she said. As they pulled back to look at each other, she couldn't help think that, if she was going to tell anyone about Salazar, it would be Cedric. She then began to wonder if he had also had strange dreams and encounters with a founder of Hogwarts. He was certainly 'chosen one' material. 

"Are you ok?" He asked her. She shook her head as if to clear it and followed with a weak nod. He didn't look convinced but didn't push it any further. "If you say so. How was the rest of your summer?"

"You know my parents," she said.

"And you know mine." They both laughed but they also knew that neither of them were really joking. 

Mr and Mrs Diggory were overprotective in a slightly different way to Mr and Mrs Blackwood. Where Amelia's parents wanted what was best for her, Cedric's parents wanted what was best for them. They expected the best and nothing short of it. Cedric had to be quidditch captain, he had to be prefect and, he was expected to get head boy next year. Amelia couldn't imagine the stress he was under. 

In a lot of ways, she was glad to have muggle parents. They couldn't expect as much because a lot of the time, they didn't know better. Who was to say an exceeds expectation was worse than an outstanding if you hadn't taken the OWLs yourself? 

At the mention of parents, Cedric seemed to darken somewhat. "Speaking of my dad," he said, his grey eyes looking into Amelia's brown intently. "He told me what happened after the match - about the dark mark and finding you with Potter and that lot. Is it true you fainted?"

Amelia nodded, and she couldn't help wonder if he too had fainted - whisked off to see a founder. "Well, I- I just wanted to make sure your ok. I know for a muggleborn, seeing his mark would've been..."

"It was," she told him. "But I'm ok."

"He's dead," he assured her. "He's been dead a long time and he isn't coming back. And, I wanted to make sure you knew, that if the impossibly happened, if he came back, I would do everything I possibly could to protect you."

Amelia looked up at him, touched. She hadn't been expecting that and she had to admit, the sentiment definitely tugged at her heartstrings. 

"I know you would," she told him truthfully. She sighed. "God, your the most hufflepuff person I know." He smiled.

"It seems like there's trouble around every corner, doesn't there?" 

"What do you mean?" She asked, hoping he was eluding to a founder.

"All this business at the World Cup, the first thing this morning with Mad-Eye Moody-"

"Who?" Cedric often seemed to forget that she spent six weeks a year in the muggle world and therefore was not as verse on everything magic.

"He's an ex auror- they're like the wizard version of muggle policemen - he's a very paranoid man, made lots of enemies on the job," Cedric explained. "He thought someone was breaking in and set a bunch of enchanted dustbin lids out to defend his house. Trouble is, it's more likely he heard a stray cat or something. The muggle police showed and everything. Dad's been round with Arthur Weasley trying to sort it all out."

It always seemed that whenever something made Amos Diggory stressed, Cedric by default also had to be stressed. 

From inside the compartment they were stood next to, one of Cedric's friends called to him to return. 

"Right, I won't keep you," he told her. "I'll see you at the feast?"

"Course," she said. "Bye.

She continued her way down the carriage in search of Harry's compartment. She reached it without any major diversion (except for a bright green fog that she was sure was the work of Fred and George Weasley). However, when she arrived, it already seemed to be rather busy. Besides Ron and Hermione, Harry was also joined by Draco Malfoy and his cronies - Crabbe and Goyle. 

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" Ron shouted as he tried to stuff away what looked like an elaborate and old fashioned table cloth. Amelia knew them to be dress robes. Mrs Weasley had been kind enough to pick some up for Amelia as well while they had been away at the World Cup. As Malfoy and his henchmen laughed, it was clear they were making fun of them. 

The Slytherins turned as they heard her approach and Amelia couldn't help but be reminded of Salazar. Had draco had an overall darker complexion, she imagined he would look very similar to a very young version of the snake house founder. They both had those pointed features and piercing eyes. 

"And if this compartment wasn't embarrassing enough," Malfoy sneered. "A 'celebrity,' a blood traitor, and not one, but two mudbloods!" 

"I told you to watch your mouth!" Ron shouted at him. Again, that word did nothing but send pure ice all the way down Amelia's body. 

"No need to get your knickers in a twist, Weasley," said Malfoy. "They have plenty of other characteristics I can make fun of. Would you rather I talk about Granger's monstrously large teeth or the fact that Blackwood's a hufflepuff?"

Amelia pushed past the Slytherins to aid Harry and Hermione in holding Ron back. 

"So serious, all of you," Malfoy laughed when they finally managed go get Ron back in his seat. Harry gave Amelia a small, appreciative smile - the pair hadn't even been able to say hello. "So, going to enter, Weasley?" Malfoy asked. "Going to try bring a little glory to the family name? There's money involved as well you know. You might be able to afford some decent dress robes if you won."

"What are you talking about?" Ron demanded, irritably. 

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy said it as if Ron was just a bit slow. "I suppose you will, Potter. Never miss a chance to show off."

Harry glanced again at Amelia to see if she had any idea what Malfoy was talking about. When she looked at him blankly, he just shrugged.

"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," Hermione told him. 

If he had looked smug before, it was nothing compared to the way Malfoy's face lit up as he realised he knew something that none of them did. 

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said, drawing out the words, taking as much time to relish in their ignorance. "Weasley's got a father and brother at the Ministry, and Blackwood knows the Diggorys, and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago. He heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry. Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley - yes - they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him."

Rather than explaining any further, Malfoy (still positively gleeful) left the compartment with Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind him, laughing all the way. Ron stood and slammed the door shut after them so hard that the glass shattered. 

As Hermione got up and repaired the glass with her wand, Amelia finally got the chance to say hello. 

"Sorry about that," Harry said to her. 

"You don't need to apologise for Malfoy," she assured him. "He's such a prick." 

"Too right," agreed Ron, his face still red with fury. "My father's always associated with the top people at the ministry..."

"Are you sure Cedric hasn't said anything?" Hermione asked her.

"If his father's told him anything, he hasn't mentioned it to me-"

"Are you ok?" Harry's questioned seemed a little out of the blue. He was staring intently at Amelia with concern. Hermione and Ron looked a little closer at her. 

"You're shaking," Hermione observed. 

It wasn't until they mentioned it that Amelia saw that it was true. Her knee bounced and her hand shook as she ran it through her hair. On top of that, she was rather pale and she almost looked sickly. 

"That word he always uses," she said, quietly. "With everything that's going on: the death eaters at the World Cup, the dark mark - I don't know. It just seems like I've experienced more anti-muggleborn behaviour in the recent weeks than in the past three years of Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded in agreement, she had felt it too. 

"I just feel like something's coming," she admitted. "Something bad."

-

Once off the train, Amelia bid a farewell to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She found her hufflepuff friends quickly enough and together, the four of them found a carriage and made their way up to the castle. After narrowly escaping a water balloon - dropped by Peeves the Poltergeist - they arrived in the great hall.

"Hopefully some of the first years will have missed the train," Hannah said as they sat down at the long house table that was noticeably lacking in food. The empty plates were almost taunting the four hufflepuffs. "I could do with a quick sorting this year."

"So could I," said Ernie. "I'm starving." 

"I wish they could just get the carriages up to school like everyone else - the boats take ages," Justin groaned. 

"It's all part of the experience," Amelia said. "You remember being in first year and seeing the castle for the first time. It's all part of the..."

"All part of the what?" Asked Hannah. 

Amelia grinned sheepishly.

"All part of the magic."

The first years finally entered the hall and, to their dismay, there seemed to be a lot of them - and they were absolutely soaked. The storm outside was still raging and gave no signs of letting up. One boy in particular, who was grinning from ear to ear, looked like he had actually fallen out of his boat. 

Hufflepuff welcomed a handful of new witches and wizards, such as 'Branstone, Eleanor' and 'Cauldwell, Owen' - and despite the numbers, the sorting didn't drag on too long. 

Once the hat was picked up by Professor McGonagal, Dumbledore stood and Ernie groaned as they all anticipated a long welcome back speech from the headmaster. 

They were thankfully proven wrong.

"I have only two words for you this evening," Dumbledore told the room, his arms outstretched. "Tuck in."

Without a seconds hesitation, the gold plates that covered the four house tables became hosts to all manners of food. Amelia compiled a nice Sunday roast on her plate and started eating as quickly as possible.

"A seat's empty up at the staff table," Hannah remarked. Amelia, Justin, and Ernie followed her gaze and looked up to the teachers. She was right, one of the seats was empty. "Who's missing?"

"It's Professor Lupin," said Justin. "He resigned at the end of last year, remember?" 

"I still can't believe he was a-" Hannah cut off quickly and lowered her voice to a whisper. "- a werewolf." 

"He was a good teacher though," Amelia said. "I can't say it didn't come as a shock but I don't think he should've resigned."

"It looks like they've not been able to find a replacement," Justin remarked. 

"Maybe they're just late?" Hannah offered.

"Maybe," Amelia responded. 

Once they had finished their dinner and the pudding had been eaten, Dumbledore stood once more.

So!" He said, grinning to the hall of students. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty- seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

Dumbledore's eyes landed on the Weasley twin to whom everyone knew Filch's warnings were directed. 

"As ever," he continued, "I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Murmurs erupted all across the hall. Amelia looked down the table and caught Cedric's eye. He looked incredibly irritated and apologetic, knowing full well Amelia had intended on trying out for the team. 

Amelia had half expected to hear the familiar shout of Oliver Wood until she realised he had graduated at the end of last year. It was probably for the best as everyone at school knew that, had Wood heard those words leave Dumbledore's mouth, it would've taken the entire staff to prevent a murder. 

Dumbledore could see the outraged looks on the faces of his students and provided an answer.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

Lightning flashed across the enchanted ceiling and illuminated the room. Everyone's eyes were drawn to the a door on the far end that swing open and closed with a sound comparable to thunder. There, in the doorway, stood a tall, hunched over man in a large traveling coat. 

In his presence, silence fell over the hall. He walked towards the staff table, his large, wooden staff making a deafening clunk with every step that echoed around the room. 

As the man took his hood down, all those who were close enough to make out his features gasped. With a large, electric blue eye that moved of its own accord; a mangled nose with chunks missing; and more scars than flesh - he was terrifying to look at. 

"He can't be our new teacher," whispered Hannah. "Can he?"

"Surely not," said Justin. 

The man reached Dumbledore and shook his hand like an old friend. The pair had a quick conversation that nobody could quite make out. They grinned at each other, the gnarled man letting out a quiet, grumbly laugh, before he took his seat of Dumbledore's right hand side. 

"May I introduce our newest Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said, breaking the silence. "Professor Moody."

"Mad-eye?" Amelia said, remembering Cedric mentioning him on the train. 

"Who?" Ernie asked.

"Ex-auror," she explained from what Cedric had said. "Apparently he's a bit mental."

"He certainly looks the part," Justin said with a grin. Amelia nudged him, trying not to laugh. She had this weird suspicion that Moody could hear everyone's mumbling. 

As the new professor took a swig of his own flask, Dumbledore turned back to the students of Hogwarts. 

"As I was saying, we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months. An event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" Shouted Fred Weasley from the Gryffindor table. The hall erupted into laughter - the tension from Moody's arrival shattering like glass. Even Dumbledore chuckled the Weasley's remark. 

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar . . ."

From behind him, McGonagal quickly cleared her throat.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time... Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament... well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those that do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

Ernie and Hannah exchanged excited looks while Amelia and Justin stared up at Dumbledore with confusion and anticipation. 

"I can't believe it," Ernie said. "My dad said he thought he heard a rumour at the ministry but I thought it was just that - a rumour. But it's actually happening!"

"Ernie, we are trying to listen," Justin said, not taking his eyes off Dumbledore as he spoke. 

"You don't know what it is?" Hannah asked.

"We're muggleborns," Amelia said, pointedly. "We don't have dads at the ministry." 

Justin took his eyes off of Dumbledore to glance at her. In first year, their shared blood status had been what brought them together. The other Hufflepuffs in their year had consisted of half and pure bloods - Hannah and Ernie included. The quartet tried to ignore the divide but it was clear that if their group of friends were to break up, Justin would follow Amelia to the ends of the earth and abandon the others without barely a second thought. 

The triwizard tournament was a competition in which the three largest European Wizarding schools provided a single champion on their behalf. The three champions would endure three task of extreme difficulty which required a great deal of magical knowledge. The winner would receive eternal glory for both themselves and their school. The three schools involved were Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang.

"The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years," Dumbledore explained, "and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities. Until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Amelia repeated anxiously. Grinning, both Hannah and Ernie nodded vigorously. 

"I hope we get a Hufflepuff champion," Ernie said. 

"I highly doubt it," said Justin. "We all know how this works. If it's not Potter himself, then it'll definitely be Gryffindor."

"Oi," Amelia said, nudging him. "He doesn't ask for it."

"Of course, but I'm sure he doesn't mind the glory."

By extending his arms, Dumbledore silenced the excitement. 

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration." 

The small bursts of outrage that were going off around the hall continued until Dumbledore finished his speech. He excused the students, sitting down to talk with Mad-eye, and the hall erupted. 

"Would any of you have gone for it, if you could have?" Hannah asked as they stood up and started walking with the large crowd towards the Hufflepuff common room.

"I don't think so," Justin said. 

"A thousand galleons prize money though," Ernie reminded him. Justin just shrugged, sticking by his answer. 

"Though it would be nice," said Amelia, "I think I'd prefer my life over eternal glory." 

As they exited the hall, the students started to split up, roughly quartering the crowd as they headed to their respective common rooms. 

"Here, Amelia will agree with me!" Called Hermione's loud voice. Amelia turned at the mention of her name and she saw the Gryffindor girl dragging Harry and Ron by their robes towards her. 

"Everything alright?" She asked the trio. 

"No, everything is not alright and it seems I'm the only one who can see that," Hermione said with a snap to her words. "Amelia, do you now who makes our feasts? Who tidies our common rooms?" 

"Um..." Amelia was caught very off guard by the questions. She felt Ernie's hand on her shoulder.

"Can this not wait until the morning?" He asked. "It's been a long journey-"

"You guys don't need to wait for me," Amelia assured them. Ernie's face fell, it would seem he believed that he was trying to rescue her from a long conversation with Hermione Granger. He, along with Hannah and Justin, sulked away, muttering something about "Gryffindors" and "first choice."

Amelia tried to push it to the back of her mind and turned back to Hermione. "Um, who makes the feasts? Magic?"

"Slave labour!" She shouted.

"What?" Amelia demanded, extremely confused.

"It's not slave labour," Ron groaned from behind Hermione. "It's house elfs - they like it."

"They like being enslaved?!" Hermione challenged. 

"Well," Amelia said, not wanting Hermione to kill Ron. "Do they get paid?"

"Not a single sickle," Hermione told her, disgust and anger snapping her voice like a whip. "I can't believe it! I thought it was only people like the Malfoys who had slaves but to think, the school-" She couldn't even finish her sentence, she was so horrified. 

"That's awful!" Amelia agreed, much to Harry and Ron's dismay. "Oh, what? You think it's ok?"

She could tell the boys were immediately regretting letting their faces express their opinions. 

"You don't understand," Ron tried to tell them. "I know it's weird to people who haven't grown up in the wizarding world but-

It could not be said that Amelia and Hermione looked anything alike but in that moment, as they pulled the exact same look of anger and annoyance, they were identical. 

"No," Ron tried to defend his point, "I just mean, it's normal-"

"So that means it's ok?" Hermione demanded. 

"Yeah," Amelia agreed. "To many, blood prejudice is normal, that doesn't mean it's acceptable."

Hermione looked away from Ron, and Amelia was met with a look of admiration. "Thank goodness some agrees," she said with a sigh of relief. "Tell you what, after lessons tomorrow, meet me in the library. We can't just let them get away with this."

Amelia nodded firmly.

"Absolutely," she agreed. "I'll see you there."

The trio headed to the staircases in order to climb the many steps up to the Gryffindor common room and Amelia descended to the hufflepuff common room, just past the kitchens where she now knew was host to house elf. 

"Oi, I've got a house elf," Ernie said defensively as she reunited with them in the common room and explained what Hermione had told her. Amelia turned on her heel to face him.

"What?!" 

"It's normal for pure blood families," he told her. 

"Pureblood families?" She demanded. It was a phrase she was very vocal about despising. It perpetuated the stereotype that those who come from wizarding families were simply more magical.

"Wizarding families, I mean," he corrected himself. "Sorry."

"You know I hate that term," she grumbled.

"But really, Amelia," Ernie tried to tell her. "They like it." It was the same response Ron had given them.

"They like being enslaved?"

"Well when you put it like that-"

"How else should I put it, Ernie? There isn't a grey area when it comes to slavery," she told him. She turned briskly and headed away from him and towards the girl's dormitory before any of them could tell her anything else.

"See you at breakfast!" Justin called after her.

"No you won't!"


	4. 4. Professor Moody

"I'm blaming you."

"Me?!" 

"Yes, you!" Amelia paced back and forth on the cold stone floor as Salazar sat on the edge of the bed, taken aback by the girl's outburst. She had barely been in his domain for five seconds before she began ranting about Hogwarts's use of house elfs. "It's your school! You must've set a precedent for, if not the approval then at least the allowance, of slave labour."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" He groaned. "I am not the same man I was when I was alive. I believed in a great many things that I see now were wrong." Amelia huffed and sat down beside him on the bed. 

"It doesn't change the fact that your views are still influencing dark wizards today," she told him. He rolled his eyes. 

"Well there's nothing I can do about it now, is there? I'm dead," he said, a sudden chill filling the room. "I called you here for a reason tonight and if you don't mind, I'd rather discuss that than your views on house elfs."

"They should be everyone's views-"

"Blackwood." His voice was unusually stern and when Amelia looked up at him, she saw that he was getting frustrated. It would seem she was getting too comfortable around the man who had pretty much created the ideology with which those who despised muggleborns justified their beliefs. He was a scary, powerful man and she had to remember that. 

"Sorry," she muttered, quietly. He nodded and stood, glad to finally be receiving some respect.

"Now, we know because of our connection that unrest within the wizarding community can't be far away - and the most likely source of that unrest will be Voldemort." Amelia nodded to show she was listening intently. "How long have you been back at Hogwarts?" He asked. She looked puzzled.

"You've not been watching?" She asked, surprised he had actually listened to her complaint of constant surveillance. For barely a fraction of a second, Salazar looked to the door that led to the other founders. 

"There was a problem that I had to divert my attention to," he said, causing disappointment to fill Amelia. It would he hadn't decided to respect her privacy. "How long?"

"A day," she told him. "I was only just back from the start of term feast when I fell asleep." 

"And?" He asked. She looked at him blankly.

"And?..." 

He huffed with annoyance and frustration. "What happened? Was there anything off? Anything suspicious?" His voice was sharper than she could remember it being. 

"Oh," she said, racking her brain. "Well - um - I'm not really sure." 

"What?" He demanded. For a moment, she could swear she saw some Gryffindor red in those green eyes. "You are aware of the likelihood that the dark lord is going to rise again?"

"Well, yes-"

"And you are aware that the outcome of that will be the deaths of countless muggles, muggleborns, and proper wizards alike?"

"Proper wizards?"

"And you didn't even think it was worth paying attention once you arrived back at school?!" He was furious. "Instead, you are insistent on complaining about the rights of HOUSE ELFS!"

Amelia stared at him with wide eyes. Shouting had never frightened her. She had heard Vernon Dursley countless times. But here, with Salazar looming over her, she was terrified. She had to think of something to say before she managed to piss him off any more.

"Well, there was one thing," she said, thinking fast. "But I don't know what it would have to do with You Know Who's return." 

"What? What is it?" He demanded, leaning close. "If I even hear the utterance of the word 'house elf'-"

"They're bringing back the triwizard tournament." 

The cold air in the room seemed to grow thick with tension. As if the pair were stuck in jelly, Salazar stares at her for a long moment. His eyes were so wide she could practically see the cogs working behind them. After what might have been thirty seconds of pure silence, he leaned back and began to pace. She watched him walk back and forth, his loud footsteps hitting the stone floor and echoing around the room. 

"Dumbledore seems a reasonable man," he said finally. Amelia nodded, confused.

"He is," she told him. 

"Then what the hell is he thinking?" Amelia stared, dumbfounded. "People die in that tournament - children die in that tournament. It takes three students from an entire years education, it has been proven that whenever it is held, the whole school's grades drop considerably from the distraction of it all. There are no benefits, none! Except of course, international relations but it was just the World Cup, surely that provided more than enough international bonding. Ican't explain it."

"You think it's suspicious?" Amelia asked cautiously. 

"I do. I think it's very suspicious," he said. "And so, I want you to do something that you might find very difficult."

"What?" 

"Pay attention."

-

Amelia woke with a start, bolting upright in her bed in the Hufflepuff dormitory. The sun was already gleaming through the curtain and a yellow light was cast upon the room. Glancing at each of the beds, she saw that all the other girls were still sleeping. She supposed she would have to be up soon anyway and so, decided just to get up. 

She was anxious for her first lesson that day - defence against the dark arts with the Ravenclaws and Professor Moody. He had been positively terrifying to look at during the start of term feast and, had talk of the triwizard tournament not overtaken the entire castle, she was sure he would be all anyone could discuss. 

She made sure to get to class early, taking as little time to eat breakfast as possible. She didn't want to risk be)by a single second late and give Moody an immediate reason not to like her. He was not a man she wanted to get on the wrong side of. 

It turned out, most of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws had had the same idea. Moody was already standing at the front of class as they all shuffled in, stealing glances at his mangled face and electric blue eye that moved of its own accord. Once the last person had arrived, Moody took a swig from his flask and turned to face the black board. In a slanted kind of handwriting, his name seemed to run away from him as he wrote it. 

"So," he said in his grumbly voice. Amelia noticed that when he leaned against his desk, he didn't do it with the palm of his hand as one would normally, but with a fist. "I had a word with Professor Lupin and he's brought me up to speed with what you done so far. You know a lot about your magical creatures, I'll give you that- Mis Abbott!"

Everyone flinched and turned to look at Hannah, who was sat next to Amelia. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring your breakfast with you to class." Hannah froze, her slice of toast inches from her mouth. Amelia tried as hard as possible not to laugh. "Funny, is it, Miss Blackwood?" 

Amelia's struggling grin fell off her face immediately. She shook her head as fast as she could. "No, sir." 

"Hmm," he said, both his normal and magical eye on her. "Well, perhaps you could tell us exactly what a boggart is? Demonstrate your classes knowledge for us."

Amelia swallowed hard and tried to remember their very first lesson with Professor Lupin. "Um - it's a shapeshifter. It takes the form of whatever the person who encounters it fears most."

"For example?" He prompted cruelly. 

"Um," she wasn't sure she wanted to remind the entire class of what she had seen last year. "For example... I saw a ministry official announcing that muggleborns would no longer be classed as proper wizards and witches, and then he snapped my wand in half." 

Moody stared at her for a long moment, the tiniest bit of regret on his face. "Very well," he said, turning back to the rest of the class. "As I was saying, you know your stuff when it comes to magical creatures but your behind. When it comes to dealing with curses, you've done very little. So, I'm here to get you up to scratch before returning to a happy retirement."

As he gave a harsh, startling laugh, most people exchanged a glance. He was only staying for one year as so many teachers of this particular subject had. 

"Now, you lot are in fourth year, isn't that right?" Everyone stared up at him, too apprehensive to even nod their heads. "What? House elfs got your tongues? I will be requiring engagement during my lessons. Or perhaps Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws just aren't as confident as their counterparts in Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"That's not true," Justin said before he could stop himself. Everyone, including moody and his magical eye, stared at him. He went immediately red but Amelia could see he was trying his utmost to remain stoic. 

"Well," Moody said in a slow drawn out voice. Justin singed loser in his seat. "That... is more like it. What's your name, boy?"

"Justin Flinch Fletchley," Justin answered as quickly as he could. His face was still pink but he was sat up straighter now. 

"Mr Flinch Fletchley," Moody said as if he were seeing how the name felt on the tongue. "Perhaps you can tell me one of the unforgivable curses." Justin opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated when he saw Moody's magical eye dart away from him and towards his fellow Hufflepuff. 

Ernie, sat right next to Justin, had risen his hand. "Mr..?" 

"Macmillan, sir. You're not going to show us the unforgivable curses, are you?" Moody stared at him in a questioning manner. "It's only- I read ahead, you see. An actual demonstration of the curses doesn't present itself in the curriculum until sixth year."

"Are you questioning my methods?" Moody asked darkly. Ernie's mouth quickly opened to answer but Moody answered for him. "Ten points to Hufflepuff. Always question, always make sure you know the motivation behind every action- CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Everyone jumped, Hannah actually rising a few inches out of her seat. 

"Constant vigilance," he repeated, this time slower and quieter. "Constant vigilance. To answer your question, Mr Macmillan, yes. I will be showing you the unforgivable curses. The ministry does not want me to do this but I don't answer to the ministry, oh no. Dumbledore thinks your ready and if Dumbledore thinks that, then I think that. Besides, you need to know." 

"But," Ernie was becoming brave, "why, sir." 

"Why?" Moody repeated. "I know you're children but surely... are you not the year group that came to Hogwarts the same year a teacher had the dark lord on the back of his head? Was there not an outbreak of petrifications in your second year, done by a creature belonging to Salazar Slytherin? Were dementors not station at every entrance post of the castle last year in order to try and recapture a mass murderer? I'll tell you why, the world is a dangerous place, and you need to know what your up against."

Ernie had turned an ashen white. Amelia couldn't help but latch onto the point Moody had made absolutely Salazar. It was his monster that nearly killed a good handful of students the year before last. It seemed all those actions, he claimed were done by an old version of himself, were still causing countless people pain. 

"Now, can anybody tell me one of the three unforgivable curses?" Moody asked the room, no longer focusing on the two Hufflepuff boys at the front of the class. A Ravenclaw girl, Padma Patil, raised her hand. "Yes, Miss..."

"Patil, sir. Padma Patil," she told him. "There's the imperius curse." 

Moody nodded. "Very good, Miss Patil. The imperious curse." He walked over to his desk and, from a jar, pulled a large spider. "Gave the ministry a lot of trouble some years back. After the dark lord fell, they had a hard time working out who was a death eater and who was simply under the imperius curse. Of course, his less than loyal followers all swore they were forced to do his wishes." He pointed his wand at the spider and uttered, "Imperio."

The spider lept from Moody's hand, scuttled around his desk for a moment, and then jumped the distance between there and the desk at which Ravenclaws Terry Boot and Michael Corner sat. Both boys flinched slightly but as they understood that the spider was completely under Moody's control, relaxed. This however was not the right move. With a slight flick from Moody's wand, the spider kept upwards and landed on Michael's head. Michael froze, trying as hard as possible to keep still as Terry let out a hearty laugh. Once upon his head, the spider did a little backflip.

Everyone laughed. Moody did not. 

"What shall I have her do next?" He said darkly. A few around the room heard his tone and the smiles fell away. "Jump down Mr Corner's throat? Attack Mr Boot? Or perhaps-" another flick and spider hit the window on the right side of the glass "windy day? You think she would survive a fall from this height? Maybe she'll land in the lake, drown herself. Or maybe, just maybe, I should make one of you lot do it. It would be easy, you know. It takes a great deal of character to resist the imperius curse. Without the training, not a single one of you would be able to stop me..."

The class was silent. Amelia was sure Hannah was even holding her breath, lest her exhale make too much of a sound. 

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Once again, everyone jumped. Terry even let out a tiny scream. Moody summoned the spider back to his palm.

"Another one. Who's got another?" He asked. 

Slowly, Amelia raised her hand. "Miss Blackwood."

"The - um - there's the cruciatus curse." A very strange look appeared in Moody's face. It wasn't quite anger, no it was more remorseful than that. Whatever it was, Amelia did not like it. 

"The cruciatus curse," he repeated. "And how would a mud- muggleborn like you know about that?" Amelia was slightly taken aback. 

"I just... I just know." 

He considered her for a long moment. "Very well. The cruciatus curse. Wizards don't need sharp edges and blunt instrument to torture. No. They need only use this." Once again, he pointed his wand at the spider. "Crucio!"

The spider immediately curled up on itself as it twitched frantically. Amelia's stomach dropped. It was horrifying, it was traumatic, it was... familiar. She had never seen the spell preformed, she'd barely even read about it, but she knew deep down, how it would look. 

Everyone was staring at her. Her face was white and her eyes were wide. She couldn't, try as she might, take her eyes off the spider. She felt Hannah's hand cover her own. "Professor Moody," Hannah said tentatively. "Please."

He lifted his wand and looked at Amelia. "Was it bothering you, Miss Abbot?" Hannah nodded but her eyes never left Amelia, who was still staring at the limp spider in Moody's hand. 

"Perhaps you can give us the third unforgivable curse?"

Hannah nodded and in a tiny voice, she answered. "Avada cadavra."

"Yes." He placed the spider on the two girls' desk, Amelia still staring. As he repeated Hannah's words, a jet of green emitted from his wand and the spider fell... dead. 

"Not nice," he said. "Very not nice. And there's nothing you can do to stop it. No counter curse, no blocking it, nothing. There's only one person who has survived it."

"Harry," Amelia said before she could stop herself. Moody nodded.

"Harry Potter."

-

When Amelia arrived on library that day after dinner, she was still incredibly shaken up. Hermione was there, waiting for her. As she sat down, eyes still a little too wide, the Gryffindor girl asked what was wrong. 

Amelia shook her head. "It's nothing." 

"No, it's something, what is it?" Hermione pressed, staring intently. Amelia thought for a moment. 

"Moody held me back after class," she explained. "He wanted to know about my mother."

"Your mother?"

"He was convinced she had to be a witch," she told her. "He kept asking about my aunt."

"Well, she was magic, wasn’t she?" Hermione asked. "Maybe he knew her."

"Maybe," she agreed less than convincingly. "He's mad, you know. Well and truly mad." Hermione's concerned face remained strong.

"Mad?"

Amelia just nodded, not quite meeting Hermione's eye. "In the lesson he... he preformed the unforgivable curses." She could tell from the bushy haired girl's expression that this was not the information she had been expecting to hear.

"He did what?" She asked, completely aghast. Amelia nodded. "Even..." Hermione dropped her voice to a whisper. "Even Avada Cadavera?"

"Yes." 

Amelia allowed herself one more moment of shock and wallowing before she shook her head to clear it. She found a false smile falling onto her face and looked brightly at Hermione. "But it's done now. I've seen it and I can't go back to a time where I hadn't. So... House elfs." 

"House elfs," Hermione agreed, silently seeing that what Amelia needed was not comfort, but distraction. "I've decided a hunger strike isn't the way to go."

"Then what is?" Amelia asked.

"A proper campaign." And Hermione went into detail about what she had been planning. She was in the process of setting up an organisation by the name of S.P.E.W.

"Spew?" Amelia asked as she looked at the badge Hermione had handed her.

"No, not spew," she said incredulously. "S.P.E.W. It stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. We can do so much! If we get members, they can buy the badges, spread the word. I think if we get a petition with enough signatures, the ministry - or at the very least, Dumbledore - will have to have a look at it!"

"Right," said Amelia, grinning at Hermione. "It all sounds wonderful! It just... what's all the wool for?" Hermione looked where Amelia was looking. It was true, amongst the paper and badges on the library desk, was balls and balls of wool. Hermione even had some in her hair.

"Oh!" She said, excitedly. "Well, all a house elf needs to be set free is to be presented with clothes. So I figured, why not make some small hats that will fit them? We can scatter them all across the school for them to take! And I know, I know - most elfs don't think that they want to be free but, I'm sure if they were to accidentally pick it up, accidentally set themselves free, then they would realise how amazing their lives could be!" This made Amelia's smile falter somewhat. She had been right there, enthusiasm neck and neck with Hermione's, but-

"Hermione," she said earnestly, trying her best not to offend. "I don't know if trying to trick them is the right way about this."

"It's not tricking them," Hermione tried to clarify quickly. "It's the wizards who have convinced them they like being enslaved that are trucking them."

"Exactly, we can't bring ourselves to that level."

Hermione considered her for a long moment. "If it's all the same to you," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully, "I quite like my hat idea. I understand it isn't a method you agree with though so I'm more than happy to do it on my own."

If there was one thing Amelia loved about Hermione, it was her ability to have a mature conversation. She was sure, had she turned down an idea of Ernie's, that he would have sulked for at least a day. "Alright," she said, happily. "I think our first order of business should be recruiting new members."

"I agree," said Hermione. There was a clear excitement between the two girls. "I'll start with the Gryffindor, and you can ask the hufflepuffs."

"Sounds great," said Amelia. But he look on her face, Hermione knew that there was something else Amelia wanted to say. She wanted so badly to confide in at least one person about her experiences with one quarter of the school founders. Hermione seemed like a good candidate, she was sure she could trust her. However, she could also trust that by tomorrow, both Harry and Ron would also know. The three of them were an odd sort of package deal when it came to secrets and information.

After about half an hour of further discussion on the topic of House Elf rights, the two girls left the library and, when they reached the marble staircase, they bid each other a farewell. Amelia found herself at the enterance of the Hufflepuff common room fairly quickly and, after tapping the familiar rhythm of Hel-ga-huf-fle-puff, she entered the warm and ever sunny room. 

By the fireplace, she spotted those whom she had been hoping to see. Ernie, Hannah, and Justin seemed to be going the lesson they had had with Moody. Ernie's hands were moving animatedly as he spoke.

"And the way that spider just... died!" He said with an odd look of intrigue. "Wow, just wow."

"Well don't sound too cheery," said Justin, who, like Amelia, was slightly concerned about that glint in his eye. "I for one found it to be extremely inappropriate. I quite frankly don't give a damn what Dumbledore seems necessary, if the government- I mean ministry - don't want us seeing them then I feel as though I should've shut my eyes." 

"If anyone should've shut their eyes, it's Amelia," said Ernie. They hadn't spotted her yet. At the mention of her name, she decided to hold back on announcing her arrival. 

"Merlin, she went whiter than the friar," Hannah said, concern plain across her face. "It was like she'd seen the curse before."

"What do you mean?" Justin asked.

"I mean," she tried to find the right words. "She was almost looking right through the spider, like she was watching an entirely different scene. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was remembering the curse from another situation."

"But she can't have bee," Justin argued. "She's muggleborn, remember-"

"Like she'd ever let us forget," Ernie muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Asked Justin. Ernie and Hannah exchanged a look. "Well?"

"Well, it's just," Hannah began, "she tends to be a little dramatic about the whole thing."

"Dramatic?"

"She acts as though she's very hard done by," Hannah tried to explain. She talked slowly, as if each word was forcing its way out of her. It was very clear that she heavily disliked talking about Amelia behind her back. "I get that muggleborn used to discriminated against but she isn't exactly oppressed now, is she? Not now that You Know Who's gone." 

"You say that as if she never been called a mudblood before," Justin told them.

"Oh, come on," Ernie said. "Malfoy's only ever said it once or twice and even then, it is only a word."

"It's not 'just a word.' Plus, there's loads more than just that. It's the small things as well," Justin tried to explain.

"Like what?" Asked Hannah.

"Like..." Justin tried to think. "Like when people with wizarding parents call themselves pureblood."

"What's wrong with-"

"It makes us feel dirty," said Justin. "By calling one pure then, by comparison, the only must be inferior."

Ernie's mind lingered on the word "us." 

"I always forget you're muggleborn," he said. "But that's exactly my point. If she was like you and didn't go on and in about being muggleborn, perhaps people like Malfoy would just forget and she wouldn't half deal with all the "problems" she claims to face."

Amelia was livid. From the corner of the common room, where she was half hiding from the trio, the shadows seemed to be growing out of her very being. How dare they? How dare they try to invalidate her experiences? They were as real as she was. 

She marched up to them, no longer caring if they knew she'd been eavesdropping. "Is that what you think?" She demanded. all three of them turned to look at her, stunned and scared. Hannah's eyes seemed three times their usual size and Ernie had the appearance of someone who was feigning bravery. Justin looked scared, not for himself who had tried his best to defend Amelia, but for his two fellow Hufflepuffs. "I'm just an over dramatic, attention seeking muggleborn who causes all her own problems simply because she is not ashamed of where she came from?"

A silence fell over the quartet. No one dared speak. She felt so terribly betrayed by the pair of them. She had always considered them her best friends. She would do anything for them and defend them against any force. It just so happened that they would apparently not do the same when the roles were reversed. 

"What's spew?" Hannah asked in an almost incomprehensible whisper. 

"What?!" Amelia demanded. Apparently too scared to utter another word, Hannah pointed at the badge Amelia wore. "S.P.E.W." She said the letters as if they would curse the pair. "It's an organisation. But I suppose you wouldn't be interested as it aims to help those seen as inferior. Or is it the house elfs faults they've been enslaved, just as it's mine for having slurs thrown at me?" 

"No, they're interested," Justin said very quickly. "You're interested, aren't you?" Hannah nodded quickly and, after a quick kick from Justin, Ernie did so as well. 

"Very interested," he said. Amelia glared at them. 

"Really?' She said. She was angry but she also wanted to see how far their guilt would push them. 

"Very," Hannah whimpered. 

Amelia considered them for a painfully long moment. 

"Alright then," she said suddenly, the anger still evident in her voice. "It's two sickles to join and you have to wear the badge - you know, to show your support for the cause." She pulled out three badges and held them in her left hand. She held out the right one expectantly. "Well? Still interested?"

"Of course," said Justin. He dug in his pocket and handed her two sickles which she pocketed before giving him a badge. He fastened it to his robes and, when he saw the hesitation on Hannah and Ernie's faces, he gave the latter a nudge and coughed loudly. The noise and movement seemed to awaken something in the pair and they copied his actions, handing Amelia the money and taking a badge. Hannah quickly fastened it to her robes. Ernie, on the other hand, stared down at his badge.

"Sorry," he muttered, not looking up in case his eyes met Amelia's. She nodded,p even though he couldn't see her.

"Thanks." She did not tell him it was ok, or even that she forgave him. She could not. He and Hannah had voiced their opinions and they could not be taken back. 

That night, when Amelia went to bed, she did not find herself waking up in that dark green room. She suspected Slytherin knew that she what she needed after that most eventful day, was a good nights rest.

However, she woke the next morning - not well rested as she had hoped - but groggy, miserable, and still red with rage which was only fuelled when she saw that Ernie was not wearing his S.P.E.W badge at breakfast.

-

For a good few days, Amelia remained very distant to the pair of them. She found herself talking to Justin more often and asking him questions that the other two could have easily answered. She was beginning though to warm up to Hannah again as the blonde girl marched proudly around the castle, brandishing her S.P.E.W badge. It turned out that Amelia seemed to be having more luck convincing people to join than Hermione was. Although everyone she asked was reluctant, she was very persuasive and, after she managed to wrestle one onto Cedric, people seemed to think it was almost cool. 

Amelia finally found herself talking to Ernie again as they stood outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Justin and Hannah were late and so, it was just the two of them. If there was one thing that could get Amelia to talk, it was to break an awkward silence.

"Hi," she said, leaning against the wall and refusing to look at him. He was stunned by the simple word.

"Uh, hi," he said. "Amelia, I-"

"I know." And although it was not an acceptance of an apology, it was an agree,ent to try and move on. 

Hannah and Justin arrived just as everyone was getting in their seats. "Where were you two?" Amelia asked the girl as she sat next to her. She was still panting.

"Blast ended skrewt," she replied, as if that explained everything.

Moody stood up from his desk and silence fell over the room like a thick blanket of snow. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws looked up at him, a minute of excitement and dread filling them all. 

"So, you've seen the curses," he said, his voice deep and grumbly as always. "Now you're going to experience one of them."

"No," Amelia said before she could stop herself. She clamped her hands over her mouth and felt her face go very red. Both of Moody's eyes were on her. She could not meet them. He was giving her the same look he had given her when he had asked about her mother. 

"No?" He asked. "If you'd rather experience them for the first time in the midst of battle then by all means..."

He pointed a mangled finger at the door. 

"Which one?" She asked quietly.

"What?"

"Which curse?" She clarified, a bit louder. His scarred face contorted somewhat and Amelia thought he might be grinning.

"Not the one you're thinking of, Miss Blackwood," he assured her. "How about, since you seem to like voicing your opinions, we have you as our first demonstrator." She finally looked at him, half horrified, half intrigued. 

"What will you have me do?" She asked, thinking about the spider he had threatened to send out the window to plummet to the ground below.

"Now, now," he said. "Where's the fun in that?"

Shaking slightly, she stood up and made her way to the front of the class to face the professor. With a grin that contained a worrying amount of enjoyment and anticipation, he uttered the incantation. 

"Imperio."

Amelia was immediately overcome with the most wonderful sensation she had ever felt. It was calmness, in its absolute truest sense. A part of her brain, the part at the very back, knew it was caused by every responsibility she had being put onto someone else. With someone else in complete control, nothing could ever be her fault. 

A voice, that was like Moody's but smoother, spoke to her from inside her own mind. The real Moody, who seemed blurry and distant, wasn't moving his lips. Scream, it told her. You want to scream. 

Amelia was ready to comply, she was sure her mouth must have opened, but another part of her brain - not the one that told her to scream or the one that told her she was free from responsibility- told her not to. It was a man's voice. It was smooth in the way Moody's seemed but it was not his. It was deeper, silkier, smarter. 

Scream! Scream now. You want to. 

Why? You're in the middle of class. To scream would be embarrassing, it would prove you are weak.

Scream!

Don't scream!

Scr-EAM!

Just as her vision came into focus and Moody's voice returned to its normal harsh tone, Amelia let a strangled and suppressed... cry. It was not silence but it was certainly not the scream Moody had instructed. 

The curse was broken and Moody was staring at her with the utmost shock. 

"How?" He asked. He was not cross but nor was he happy. Besides the obvious surprise, the most notable element in his voice seemed to be something resembling respect. 

"What?" She asked, panting hard. She out her hands on her knees and tried to regain some stability. Although it had not overtaken her, the curse had certainly bumped her quite a bit. Moody shook his head to rid his face of the look of shock. 

"That was... impressive - for your first time," he told her. She straightened up and shrugged, still breathing hard.

"Constant vigilance, I suppose."

Moody's laugh was like a bark. "Precisely, Miss Blackwood. Precisely."


	5. 5. The Goblet of Fire

In the Hufflepuff common room in late October, Amelia and Cedric sat together, her other friends noticeably absent. She had been explaining to him about the conversation she had overheard and, while her anger had given her a lot of confidence, she was beginning to worry if they were right. Had she been overreacting? 

"Absolutely not," Cedric told her firmly. The answer was both reassuring and condemning.

"You're sure?" She asked. 

"I'm sure," he said. "You were at the World Cup, you saw what happened. People have always been prejudice but tensions have definitely been rising."

She thought of Salazar. "You have no idea." Again, she was struck with the sudden desire to tell him all about the founder, all about where she had been going in her sleep. She was so sure that if she knew any of the others that had been chosen, Cedric just had to be one of them. "You still set on entering the tournament?" She asked him, the thought of him being a chosen one bringing the memory of his enthusiasm to mind.

"Yep," he said with a smile. "Eternal glory seems pretty fitting."

"With that hair? Absolutely."

"Shut up." They both grinned at each other. 

"You'll get chosen," she told him. "I'm sure of it." His grin turned into a smile that didn't seem all too convincing. "What?" 

"Even with Potter here?" 

"Harry's not even old enough to enter," she said. "Even if he was, I'm pretty sure the boy who lived has more than enough glory - more than he wants, I'm sure." Cedric shook his head. 

"You're so sure about him," he said. She shrugged. 

"I've known him all my life," she said simply. "He's not the kind to seek out that kind of stuff, it happens to him accidentally more than enough." 

-

Though relations had not completely been mended, the four Hufflepuffs could feel things slowly becoming more normal. Amelia spoke a lot more at dinners - and not just to Justin - and they were allowed to laugh at something without Amelia glaring at them again. It was half because she could see they were sorry and half because the school had far more interesting things to worry about. As the four friends wandered down to dinner, they noticed a large crowd forming in the entrance hall. 

"What's all this about, then?" Justin asked aloud. 

"Not sure," said Ernie. Amelia tried standing in her tiptoes but it was no luck, she couldn't see over tall heads of those in the years above. She spotted Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the others who took Care of Magical Creatures coming in from the grounds and immediately drifted over Ron who was the tallest there. Justin, Ernie, and Hannah followed as they watched Ron peer over the sea of students. 

"It's about the tournament!" He beamed, excitedly. "The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstang will be arriving at six o'clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early-"

"Brilliant! It's potions on Friday!" Harry said. "Snape won't have time to poison us all!" 

"Students will return their books and bags to their dormitories," Ron continued, "and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast!"

Ernie gasped audibly beside Amelia. "Only a week away! I wonder if Cedric knows? I think I'll go tell him." And with that he was off and, without even realising what was happening, so we're Hannah and Justin. It would seem a lot of the Hufflepuffs saw Cedric as their champion already. He was someone within school that really gave the house a reputation as... cool. He was handsome, smart, and quite frankly the only redeeming factor of the Hufflepuff quidditch team. However, if any of them knew him like Amelia did, they would see that he was biggest dork in the world. 

"Cedric?" Ron asked. 

"Diggory," Amelia finished for him. "He's entering."

"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" said Ron. 

"He's not an idiot," Amelia said sharply. Well... he was but there was no way she was going to let someone else call him that. "Just because he beat Harry at quidditch-"

"Harry was attacked by dementors!" Ron argued. 

"Well," said Hermione. "I've heard he's a really good student - and he's a prefect." Amelia grinned at her an the matter-o-fact way in which she spoke. 

"He seemed nice enough when I met him," Harry said with a shrug. Ron rolled his eyes at the three of them but conceded. "Don't mind him," Harry whispered as they made their way towards the marble staircase, "he just doesn't know when to stop trusting Fred and George's judgement." 

She grinned at him and held back, turning to head in the other direction towards the kitchens and, therefore, the Hufflepuff common room. 

-

Friday seemed to take forever to arrive. All the talk, all the build up - the anticipation made the week feel like an eternity. To Amelia, she felt like a kid on Christmas morning, waiting an age for her parents to awake. Though, with the excitement came dread. She remembered how Salazar had reacted to the news. The triwizard tournament meant trouble and trouble could mean war. 

So, as the bell rang half an hour before history of magic usually ended she and her fellow Hufflepuffs dropped their bags off in their dormitories, Amelia felt strangely dizzy. She half expected Salazar to yank her from consciousness with every step she took towards the entrance hall. There, the heads of house were trying to get their students to stand in line. Amelia, Ernie, Hannah, and Justin followed the sea of yellow tie wearers and found themselves to be roughly in the middle of the long line. 

"Neat and tidy, everyone!" They heard Professor Sprout shout with a nervous smile on her face. They watched her head to the front of line to make sure all the first years looked presentable. 

"How do I look?" Ernie asked the two girls. 

"Fine!" Hannah beamed, her face almost red with excitement. Ernie's hands went to his hair in an attempt to smooth it out - not entirely convinced by Hannah's giddiness. He stared rather intently at Amelia as he put any astray hairs back in their place and fixed his tie. Amelia found it slightly off putting until she realised he was staring at his reflection in her glasses. 

"You look fine, Ernie," she told him with a roll of her eyes that she doubted he even noticed. She exchanged a glance at Justin, who seemed rather amused with his friend. 

From over the heads of those in the years below, they saw Sprout's beckoning hand and - one by one - the Hufflepuffs followed her outside and lined up in front of the castle. As fourth years, the quartet found themselves in the fourth row. Amelia looked over her shoulder the Cedric who stood two rows back. He caught her eye and grinned excitedly. 

"What time is it?" She asked Ernie. He checked his slightly ridiculous gold watch.

"Almost six," he told her. "They'll be here any minute." 

As if on cue, just as the shivering was beginning to become unbearable, Dumbledore announced from the back row, "Aha! If I'm not mistaken, the delegations from Beauxbatons!"

A scattering of "where's?" emitted from the students until a boy two rows back shouted with a pointed finger, "there!"

Everyone immediately looked to a spot in the sky above the forest. "What is it?!" Hannah asked - a question that was echoed many times around her. 

In truth, no one quite knew how to identify what they were looking at. It was a carriage as large as a house, pulled by a dozen elephant sized horses. It and the hooves of the horses hit the ground with a resounding crash and moments later, a young boy dressed in pale blue opened the carriage door.

He fumbled with a small latch and a set of golden stairs unfolded. He stood back up in a way that reminded Amelia of a soldier - she half expected him to raise his hand in salute. 

The reasoning behind size of the carriage became quite clear as it's next occupant vacated it. A woman who was easily taller than two Amelia's stood before them. She was a sight to behold in her full length black dress which was dazzled with magnificent opals. As she descended the steps, the students of Hogwarts whispered to each other, creating a murmuring of shock and intrigue.

"Do think they brought a big enough carriage?" Justin leaned down to whispered to Amelia. She looked straight ahead to prevent herself from laughing but Justin could see the way her lips crinkled to suppress her grin. He stood up straight once again, an odd proud look on his face. 

The murmuring was silenced as Dumbledore began to clap. Everyone followed suit and presented the students from Beauxbatons with applause. Beside her, Hannah stood on her tiptoes, looking to the large woman with awe. After a moment of basking in applause, the woman smiled in a proud fashion. She began to walk towards them all and Dumbledore met her halfway. 

"My dear Madame Maxine," he said, accepting her outstretched hand and kissing it. To see her standing next to Dumbledore, whom Amelia had always considered to be rather tall himself, truly out the woman into perspective. 

The headmaster and headmistress greeted each other as the rest of the Beauxbaton pupils came into view. They all wore the same pale blue uniform, though some wore skirts while others wore trousers. They all seemed even colder than the Hogwarts students however. They were used to Scotland's unpredictable climate and therefore, most dawned their cloaks while the visiting school's uniform seemed to be made of a fine silk. 

" 'As Karkorff arrived yet?" They heard Madame Maxine ask. 

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

She decided to take herself and her students inside to warm up. Amelia was slightly envious as she stood with her friends, freezing. She knew, without having to look in a mirror, that her nose and cheeks were surely bright red. If there was one thing Amelia Blackwood hated (a list that would probably take up more pages than A History of Magic) it was the cold. 

"Here," said Justin as they watched the students of Beauxbatons march past and into the warm orange light of the castle. He wrapped his black and yellow scarf around her shoulders. She looked up at him appreciatively.

"Won't you be cold?" She asked him, her teeth chattering. 

"I'm sure I'll survive." 

She stood there, slightly less freezing for a minute or two before a low and slightly eerie rumbling sounded. "What's that?" Hannah asked. 

"Not sure," said Ernie, peering in every direction for the source. 

"The lake!" Shouted a third year Gryffindor that Amelia distantly thought might be called Denna Deidre. Everyone looked to try and see what she had seen. Sure enough, the surface of the lake had began to ripple rather dramatically. Very suddenly, an entire ship emerged from the depths and slammed back down onto the surface with an almighty splash! 

It seemed to dock on the shore and in a quick and uniformed fashion, the students of Durmstrang marched up to where they all stood. They all wore heavy furs that made them all appear near like and intimidating. Amelia silently wished she had something so thick to wear - not a single one was shivering.

The man who lead them wore a different type of fur. It was sleek and silver and easily identified him as the headmaster. "Dumbledore!" He cried heartily. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied with a smile. Amelia tried to hear what else the two men were going to say to each other but, as she spotted a familiar face amongst the fur clad students, the two headmasters could not have mattered less. 

"Oh my god," she breathed, much to her friends alarm.

"What?" Asked Ernie.

"Are you ok?" Asked Justin. 

"Krum," she replied, eyes wide and jaw practically at her ankles. "It's Viktor Krum."

Slowly, the other students were beginning to realise. Viktor was beckoned forward by Karkaroff and his every step was followed by hundreds of staring students. 

As everyone made their way back into the castle, it would seem the fawning over the quidditch player of the year wasn't going to end any time soon. Those in Beauxbatons sat at the Ravenclaws table and those in Durmstrang, at the Slytherin table. Amelia felt a pang of jealously as she watched Malfoy lean forward to talk to Krum. 

As the teachers made their way back to the staff table, the beauxbaton students got o their feet and did not sit until their headmistress did. 

"They're well trained," Amelia said to Justin who sat across from her with a small smile. "Just think, that could've been you in Eton."

He made a face at her and she giggled. "They seem rather unimpressed, don't they?" Said Ernie. It was true, those clad in pale blue looked downright miserable as they hugged their scarves and shawls close to their bodies. 

Dumbledore addressed the hall and welcomed the guests in a fashion similar to that of the start of term feast. Sure enough, he kept it concise as he so often did in favour of making sure everyone could get nice and full. As the food appeared on the golden plates before them, they quickly noticed a fair few unfamiliar dishes. 

"Oh!" Said Justin in delight. He leaned forward scooped up a helping of potatoes. 

"What so special about potatoes?" Hannah asked, staring at the far more exciting options up and down the table. 

"Potatoes dauphinoise," he corrected. "I had it a few years back when I went skiing in the alps. Potato with cream, cheese, and a hint of garlic and thyme. If there's one thing the french can do - it's food."

"I hope they have croissants for dessert," Hannah said cheerfully. 

"I hope they have..."

But Ernie didn't finish his sentence. Amelia looked at him and thought for a moment that he might've just started his sentence before realising he didn't know nearly as much as Justin on french cuisine. But instead, he looked like he knew nothing at all. He was staring, not at any of them, but just over Hannah's shoulder. All three of the, followed his gaze and, while Hannah and Amelia didn't seem quite as affected, they half understood his facial expression.

A girl a few years older than them had stood and wandered over to the Gryffindor table. She was perhaps the most beautiful girl that any of them had ever seen. She had long white blonde hair that appeared even silkier than the robes she wore. She had large, deep blue eyes and a strangely inviting yet intimidating face. 

"Wow," Amelia said simply, taking in the girl's beauty.

"More than wow," said Justin. Amelia looked back at him and saw he was just as captivated as Ernie. "Anyone else feeling a sudden desire to transfer to Beauxbatons?" 

"Uh huh," said Ernie. Amelia waved in front of their faces and snapped her fingers.

"Oi, eat you potatoes," she said as Justin shook his head to clear it. He wore a sheepish smile on his face.

"Sorry," he said with a chuckle as he ate a fork-full of potato. "It's just... wow."

"Indeed," said Ernie, his eyes flickering between his plate and the girl. 

"I don't think she's any prettier than the girls you can find at Hogwarts," Hannah said, a little annoyed at the boys across from them. 

"Ha!" Ernie let out before he could stop himself. In all honesty, it was true, the girls beauty far outweighed any of the girls at Hogwarts, but Amelia felt a little uneasy with the boy's reactions. "You've got to be joshing, Hannah, look at her!"

Hannah went scarlet. She pushed the potatoes to the side and reached for some good old British roasties. She put a couple on her own plate before dispersing a few onto Amelia's - who took them graciously and started to eat defiantly. 

They ate in relative silence, Ernie and Justin often saying a remark to one enough before falling silent one again. As the food vanished and was replaced by desserts, they all distinctly took note of the fact that Hannah ignored the croissants she had been so excited for in favour of a chocolate trifle. 

Amelia felt a light kick against her foot from under the table and looked directly across from her to Justin. He wore a small, apologetic smile. Though she she too felt a little bit of Hannah's annoyance, she couldn't help but smile back in a minuscule fashion she hoped the girl on her left wouldn't notice. 

"Who's that?" Justin asked the group in order to break the silence. All three of them looked up to staff table where Justin stared. Two wizards had filled the seats either side of Karkaroff and Maxine. 

"Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch," Amelia answered. "They were at the World Cup." She suddenly remembered the situation in which she had met the latter and was filled with a sudden anger. "Crouch is the one that abandoned his house elf after she did absolutely nothing wrong."

She chose to ignore the look exchanged by Ernie and Hannah, plus the fact that neither were wearing their S.P.E.W badges. 

"The moment has come," Dumbledore announced, causing all chatter to silence immediately. The triwizard tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce you, to those who don't already know, to Mr Bartemius rough, head of the department for international magical cooperation and to Mr Ludo Bagman, head of the department of magical sports."

Everyone applauded the two men but Amelia only applauded for Bagman. 

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have working tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the triwizard tournament," Dumbledore continued. "And they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxine on the panel which will judge the three champions."

He grinned down at them, sensing their excitement. "Mr. Filch, the casket if you please."

Filch appeared from the side of the great hall with a great chest, covered in jewels. It looked ancient and powerful - magic practically radiating off of it. 

"As you know, three champions will compete - one from each of the schools," Dumbledore continued. "They will be marked on how well they preform each of the tournament's tasks and the champion with the highest total marks after the third task will win the triwizard cup! The champions will be chosen by the Goblet of Fire." 

Dumbledore reached inside the old chest and pulled out a large, wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."

As they had on the night of the announcement, many underage students looked miserable. 

"Finally," Dumbledore said, "I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

And so, the students returned to their common rooms, all buzzing with excitement for tomorrow night. There was no doubt in Amelia's mind, it just had to be Cedric. 

She found him laughing with some of his friends as they discussed when they were gonna chum him to put his name in. 

"You nervous?" She asked him after he assured his friends he would meet them in his dorm in a few minutes. 

"Definitely," he answered truthfully. "But it's the good kind of nervous, I think. Will you come down tomorrow? Me and the guys were thinking of going first thing tomorrow morning."

"Of course!" She told him. She looked left and right despite his grin, she had something more serious to asks him. "Look, Ced. I'll believe you no matter the answer but I have to ask you something." It was something she had been thinking about ever since he mentioned an interest in going for champion. 

"What is it?" He asked, folding his arms. 

"Are you sure it's really you that wants to enter?" She asked. "And not your dad?"

It wasn't an outrageous question. Cedric could certainly see how she could think that. But he just shook his head, an appreciative smile on his face.

"It's really me," he assured her. "I promise. I know me and my dad have that whole thing but his approval is not something I would risk my life for." She looked up at him, not entirely convinced. "Look," he said. "The cup chooses who it thinks is most worthy of being the champion for each school, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"So if I'm lying and this is really all a big scheme to make my father proud then sure, it won't pick me," he said. "You've got nothing to worry about. I promise."

He leans down and gave her a hug. "Just be careful," she said into his shoulder. 

"Always," he replied. He stood back up, a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for caring though." She grinned at him.

"Always."

The next morning, although Amelia rose bright and early, she was the only one still in the dormitory apart from Hannah, who looked as if she was seconds away from being out the door. "Justin and Ernie are already down stairs," she informed her as she saw sit up and grab her glasses from her bedside table. "I can wait with you if you like."

"Thanks," Amelia replied. "I'll be ten minutes tops." 

She practically ran over to the bathroom, very thankful she had showered the night before, and proceeded to get dressed, pop on a little make up, and attempt to control her hair. It was truly wild that morning so she decided just to through it up in a pony tale.

True to her word, she emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later and found Hannah fitting in the edge of her bed. "Ready?" She asked. Amelia grinned, nervous and excited all at the same time. 

"Yep." Both girls slung their bags over their shoulders and headed down to the enterance hall where the goblet of fire had been positioned. There was already a small crowd despite the hour. Roughly thirty people, including the likes of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all stood around it, just in front of the golden age line. 

They spotted Ernie and Justin and made their way over to them. "Grabbed you a plate," said Justin as he smiled at Amelia. "I mean, I still don't approve of your breakfast habits but I suppose I would want you to starve." She laughed and accepted the plate of toast with jam and marmalade on it.

"You just can't comprehend my genius," she told him. "But thanks. Has anyone put their name in yet?"

"All the students from Durmstrang have," Ernie explained. 

"Anyone from Hogwarts?" Hannah asked.

"Not yet," he answered. "Does anyone know when Cedric's coming down?"

"He said he'd be down first thing," Amelia told them. "So can't be long now."

Just as she said that, she heard laughing and whooping from behind them. They all turned, expecting to see Cedric and his fellow Hufflepuffs arrive. Instead, Fred and George Weasley, closely followed by quidditch commentator, Lee Jordan, ran up the length of the hall towards the goblet. 

"Just done it," Fred announced to the crowd. As he spoke, more Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins alike entered the hall, excited to watch the twins enter their names. But Amelia could not think how they expected to enter their names. They weren't seventeen till April. "Just taken it."

"What?" Ron asked his brothers. 

"An ageing potion," Fred explained. 

"One drop each," added George. "We only need to be a few months older." 

Amelia had a strong suspicion that Albus Dumbledore, the man widely regarding as the greatest wizard of their time, would have thought of something so simple. 

"You're joking, right?" Asked a Slytherin girl in the twin's year. Fred and George grinned. 

"Do you not think us brilliant, Reshi?" Fred asked, dramatically putting his hand to his forehead. 

"You wound us!" Said George. The girl, Reshi, just shook her head with a suppressed grin. 

"You don't think Dumbledore will have thought of something so obvious as an ageing potion?" She asked, her arms folded but her face amused. 

"Ah but you see!" Said Fred who leaned an arm on her shoulder. It was lucky he was so tall as Reshi appeared to be at least 5ft 9. "It's exactly that mindset that makes its so promising!"

"Is it now?" She said, taking a step back and causing Fred to momentarily lose his balance and stumble a few steps. 

"That's exactly what the big man will be thinking," said George who made a face that resembled the headmaster's wise look. "Ah," he said in a pretty perfect impersonation of Dumbledore, "an ageing potion? No, there's no need to protect against that! Only an idiot would think that would work!"

"My point exactly," she said. Her friends in Slytherin laughed, as well as a few in the other houses. 

"Who's she?" Amelia asked Hannah quietly. 

"Myra Reshi," she told her. "She's the chaser who won them the game against Ravenclaw last year. Everyone was sure she was going to get captain this year but obviously, the tournament's put that on hold. And the girl beside her -" Amelia looked at the truly beautiful witch who was laughing with Reshi. She was similar in height but where Reshi was dark, she was pale, with raven black hair that was pulled back into a braid. "- is Adelaide Murton, the only muggleborn Slytherin's had since anyone can remember."

"Seriously?" Amelia asked, watching the two girls with great interest. 

"Seriously," Hannah confirmed. 

Amelia wasn't sure what it was but she felt drawn to Myra Reshi in an odd sort of way. The girl radiated confidence and organisation - from her neat and flattering uniform to the fact that her green tie matched her hijab perfectly. But it wasn't her good looks or attractive personality that made Amelia feel connected with her. No. It was something much deeper. 

"Ready?" Fred asked his brother. 

"Ready."

Fred pulled out a small piece of parchment that bore his name and his school, and approached the age line. He stood there for a moment, held his breath, and jumped.

He landed right in front of the cup and his face exploded into a smug and exhilarated grin. George shouted with glee and followed his brother, landing next to him. They both looked over at Reshi who, to many peoples surprise, did not look shocked but instead, amused. 

"Oh," she said as they reached up to deposit their names, "did I mention I saw that Fawcett girl in Ravenclaw do exactly the same thing?"

"Really?" Asked George. "So you knew it would work?"

She just continued to smile knowingly.

Fred and George glanced at each other, shrugged, and reached up with their parchment. They were a few inches away when a loud sizzling noise sounded before a loud crack! In an instant, the twin were thrown backwards, several feet off the ground, and landed heavily on their backsides, facing away from the crowd. 

The hall erupted into laughter but fell silent when Reshi held up a finger. "Wait for it," she said with an immense amount of pleasure in her voice. The twins managed to get to their feet and slowly turned to face the crowd.

They had sprouted two full length, silver beards. 

The laughter returned, this time twice as loud. Amelia actually had to grab onto to Justin's arm to steady herself as she reached that leaves of hilarity where no sound comes out. Fred and George were laughing too as they saw each other. 

"Well played, Reshi," Fred said over the laughter. She grinned and merely shrugged. 

Another person entered the hall. "I did warn you," said Professor Dumbledore, who appeared very amused. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours. Perhaps you would like to take them up and make sure they do not take any detours, Miss Reshi."

"Of course, just one moment, Professor," she said. She quickly turned, stepped over the age line with ease, and entered her name. She high dived her friend, Adelaide, and walked smugly over to the two bearded twins who stared at her with impressed, wide eyes. 

"How did you..."

"My birthday was last week," she told them as the three of them plus lee Jordan left the hall, still laughing. 

As soon as they left, a new crowd entered, this time led by Angelina Johnson. 

"Oh, she'd be good," Amelia commented. 

"What about Cedric?" Ernie demanded. Amelia rolled her eyes. 

"Obviously I want it to be Cedric, I was just saying it wouldn't be too bad if it was her. She's always seemed really nice and she's an incredible quidditch player."

"To be fair though, the Gryffindors would be unbearable," Justin commented. Amelia had to concede. 

"Very true," she agreed. 

Angelina put her name in without all the muss and fuss of Fred and George's attempt, and she smiled when everyone applauded. She appeared humble enough and, while the fact was true that the Gryffindor's already overinflated heads would surely explode if a Gryffindor was chosen, Amelia still believed she would be a fantastic champion. 

And then finally, after another twenty minutes, Cedric entered the hall to massive applause. It would seem he was supported by the Ravenclaws and Slytherins who were desperate for anyone but a Gryffindor. 

For a moment, he stood before the age line and Amelia could practically feel the nerves radiating off him. He looked over his shoulder and found her eye. She grinned at him and he winked. 

"Come on then!" One of his friends shouted as a group of them pushed him forward and over the line. Cedric laughed and turned to face the cup. In went the parchment that read Cedric Diggory - Hogwarts. 

Everyone applauded, Ernie letting out a few whoops and Justin whistling. 

In truth, Amelia knew Cedric had his work cut out for him. He was up against some pretty impressive competition. From just the few minutes she had seen Reshi, she knew the girl had an excellent chance. And Angelina Johnson was a force to be reckoned with both on and off the quidditch pitch. And the, after Cedric had put his name in, a slytherin seventh year named Warrington had also put his name in. 

All she knew was that no matter who was chosen, the triwizard tournament was going to be a very interesting competition.


End file.
